Leather and Lace
by Maidens of Konan
Summary: by KittyLynne w/contributions from Adriana Morgan Miaka has moved to Colorado Springs to salvage her relationship with Taka, but fate presents her with a difficult choice when she meets a cop with an uncanny resemblance to Tasuki! Update pending 1/2011
1. Chapter One

**Leather and Lace**

**_By: Maidens of Konan _****_(aka KittyLynne with contributions from Adriana Morgan)_**

Disclaimer: Fushigi Yûgi is owned by Watase Yuu, Shogakukan Comics, Pierrot Studios, TV Tokyo and Pioneer! The rights to the original plot, dialogue, and the lives of any original characters appearing in this story belong to the author(s). Please do these ideas, prose or characters without express written permission, or risk the wrath of Soi raining down upon your miscreant person.

Notes and warnings: Reincarnation story that does not take Eikouden into account. Alternative pairing. Spoilers for TV series and first two OVAs. Overall rating:** M **for strong language and adult themes/situations.

**Chapter One **

_The rumble of distant thunder. _

_Blurred motion and the sensation of flying._

_Pain and its abrupt cessation. _

_F__reefall. _

_It was done, and t__he forces of justice, faith and good were sending him onward. T__he __world, his life and everything and everyone he knew would be left behind as the consequence of his actions__. _

_Unfettered by physical imperfection, he glided through the formless mists of time and space. T__he void in which he found himself held no terrors, for he was sustained by the bond that united his consciousness with another's; a __smiling, lovely young woman garbed in flowing red silk and a headdress befitting a goddess. _

_He had been born for this woman. He had fought for her. __He had loved her with every fiber of his being and would love her for all time. __No sacrifice he had made was too great. This __love was__ worth dying for...__and living for, all over again._

_The shimmering light beyond the void extended itself like a warm hand, beckoning to him. __He stretched out both hands and grasped hold with all of his strength, determined that this time it would not elude him._

_ It pulled him close, using its energy to fill and shape him. _

_At last. He was almost there. _

_All he had to do was remember... _

* * *

Sergeant Detective Dante Tager rolled over and cursed as the incessant beeping of his bedside clock jolted him back to consciousness. He fumbled for and then slammed his hand down on the snooze button, taking grim satisfaction in hearing the anguished chirp the alarm made as it was cut off.

A bleary-eyed glance at glowing green numbers and the date had him dropping his head back onto his pillow with a sigh of disgust.

Monday, his least favorite day of the week, and five frickin' a.m. He'd purposely set the damn alarm for this time when he was wide awake and delusional about the benefits of getting an early start, but screw that. He could lie here for a full thirty minutes before he absolutely needed to bolt out the door! Unfortunately, a loud grumble from his stomach provided an effective counter argument that not getting up meant having to skip out on breakfast and the vital carbs that he needed more than a few extra minutes spent lolling in bed.

Flinging back his covers, he rolled out of the queen sized four- poster that looked like three people had slept in it instead of just one, stopping for a moment to pull up the rumpled sheets and toss the quilt over them. One hand raked long strands of fire-red hair back from his face and the other hitched his flannel pajama bottoms back up around his waist while he ambled off to the bathroom to perform his morning abolutions.

A quick shower and shave later, and it was on to the kitchen where a cup of freshly brewed coffee and a bag of his favorite pastries awaited. It was quick work to fill a mug and snag a jelly doughnut to take with him into the one step down living room. The double paned picture window that spanned a good length of one wall beckoned to him, and he accepted its cheerful invitation, treading lightly across the polished planks of a hardwood floor to reach it.

The rambler he called home was ensconed in a housing development built on top of a small foothill. It was a twenty year old construction, but one that definitely had what realtors referred to as 'good bones'. That fact and having virtually unobstructed and picturesque views of his favorite parts of the city more than made up for the long hours of upgrades and repairs he'd put in.

Taking a large bite of pastry and a long swallow of coffee, Dante gazed out at his surrounding with unfettered pleasure. Colorado Springs, Colorado was famous for having more sunny days year round than any other city in America, and today would not be an exception; the only areas not presently illuminated by the sun was the Rocky Mountain range bordering the city's west end. Towering Pike's Peak and its attendant monoliths were still shrouded in shadow, their majestic purple-hued tops providing stark contrast for a cloudless azure sky.

His gaze moved on, picked out the flag waving on the rooftop of the US Olympic Center, the green line of old growth trees lining the downtown sector, and finally, the distinctive red rock mounds that marked one of his favorite of favorite spots in the city- the Garden of the Gods. The park's ancient volcanic formations stood like sculptured works of art amidst lush clumps of pines, prickly sagebrush and desert flowers that were at their spectacular best when being viewed on horseback. Dante's smile at memories of past excursions became a grimace at the acknowledgement that with the way his latest case had been dragging on, it could very well be weeks before he got within smelling distance of a stable_. _But even so, he still couldn't complain. He had a pretty damn good life. Nice house, beautiful surroundings, friends he could count on, making a more than decent salary doing what he loved to do; he was living the American dream.

There was only one glitch in this paradise- not having found the right woman to share his good fortune.

He took a slow sip of coffee while considering the single thorn in his bouquet of life.

It wasn't that he had wanted for female companionship- since arriving here, his social life was as busy as he wanted it to be. For a while, that had meant going out almost every night with a different women- variety was the spice of life, he had thought. But as the days and the dates passed, he grew tired of the superficiality of it all. The club scene was all about 'the flavor of the month'. Bar hopping was mediocre to downright depressing. A weekend singles ski trip, which had cost plenty and given him nothing to show but an empty wallet and contusions in places he didn't want to think about, had been the worst idea of all. He actually liked to ski, and did so, which meant all the women were taken when he finally got back to the lodge.

Getting fixed up by friends hadn't worked too well either. Out of the baker's dozen thrown at him, only one had been worth a long look. As an ER nurse who had shared and understood the tedium of paperwork, the stress of working crazy hours and double shifts, and as a newly divorced woman who knew how hard a high stress career could be on relationships, Sandra had seemed to be his perfect match.

Sandy was intelligent and attractive and liked to keep fit. He had admired her assessment skills and her compassionate nature, and the fact that she held an optimistic view of the world despite being exposed to trauma and loss on a daily basis. She had been darn good company, laughingly referring to herself as his 'best buddy with breasts'. After close to six months of what he assumed was monogamous dating, he figured they were ready for the next level, and made plans for proposing a more permanent commitment.

The very day he'd planned to surprise her with that proposal, Sandy had showed up on _his_ doorstep to blindside him with the news that she'd reconciled with her surgeon ex-husband. Numb and stonefaced, he had silently listened to her profuse apologies and hurried explanations. She had made a mistake in not fighting for the marriage, but she had been too afraid to tell her husband that . As for the ex, it turned out that seeing his former wife in the company of another man had made him realize that he might actually lose her for good. And so he'd gone after her. Counseling was sought, compromises made, new found harmony achieved, yada yada yada.

During the break up speech, he kept the scathing words that were dangling on his tongue to himself, unwilling to destroy the hope and joy shining in his ex-girlfriend's face as she spoke of what it meant to her to have this second chance at love. Even if he was the one getting hurt, it was pointless to do anything but what he knew was right- to let her go and wish them both well without rancor or fuss.

Sandy had cried as she hugged him, adding unintentional insult to injury with the sisterly assurances that he was a good man, the best friend she'd ever had, and that she was absolutely certain that he'd find his own true love very soon.

After she'd left in a taxi headed for the airport and a chartered flight to Vegas, he had plunked down on his front porch stayed there for a long time, staring out at the range of mountains as if they somehow could give him the key to understanding the complex, fickle creatures called women. There was solace in the fact that he could count on the steadfast beauty of the Rockies always being there for him when he got home at the end of a hard day's or night's work. They were his sentinels, his foundation, symbols of steadfastness and continuity amidst the changing power of nature.

And that was how this morning ritual had begun; with the vow that he wouldn't ignore the mountains or take them for granted as so many Springs natives tended to do. He would take this time every day to appreciate them and what they inspired. The wisdom of the ages set in stone, holding answers waiting to be discovered by those who took time to search for them. Perhaps, Dante thought, taking another sip of coffee, they might even provide the key to the recurring dreams he'd been having for several weeks now, dreams that held the sights and sounds of the ancient Orient and that unfolded each night with odd twists and turns involving villains, monsters and magic, and himself in the role of a character who not onlyd belonged in that place and time, but who had a vitally important role to play in its survival. This sense of urgency and purpose followed him whether he dreamed of brawling in a tavern, trudging along a snow-capped mountain path, worshipping in a shrine, or striding along the ornate halls of an imperial palace.

In some of the dreams he found could run so fast it felt as if he were about to take flight. In others, he'd be surrounded by a fire which never burned him and seemed to bend to his will. There were times he'd awaken with the sounds of battle or the echoing cry of a bird lingering in his ears, and on more than one occasion he'd woken up with the scent of incense clinging to his nostrils. He'd been seriously creeped out by the subconscious phenomena at first, but when he realized it hadn't caused sleep deprivation or any other ill effects that he could tell, eventually he'd just accepted them. There were worse things than starring in a scratch and sniff fantasy adventure scripted by his subconscious, and he'd say he actually looked forward to finding out what was going to happen next if it weren't for one sticking point. His dream self, no matter how hard he tried, couldn't free the captive and mysterious young woman who appeared at the end of every dream that he'd had.

Imprisoned in what looked like a water-filled snow globe that hovered just out of his reach, the finer details of her face and form were obscured by the water, leaving a tantalizing impression of large eyed beauty. A muscle clenched in Dante's jaw as he thought of the way the young woman stretched out her arms to him. He could feel her emotions, as crystal clear and compelling as if they were his own. Feelings of love, loss and longing that drew him towards her as if they were two halves seeking to be whole.

Every night he fought tooth and nail to get through to her, only to have her pulled away by an unseen force at the moment he got too close. For weeks his attempts had continued without a resolution. It was beyond maddening, but he couldn't give up. Imagining the passionate reunion that would be his reward after breaking through the barrier kept the fires of his determination stoked.

This morning's vision of her had been the most exciting and agonizing yet. For the first time, he had finally reached and broken through the bubble barrier. Half blinded by the deluge of water, he was still able to feel the brush of her fingertips against his, and then to savor the grip of her two hands around his one. With a pounding heart, he had began to pull her towards him, wanting nothing more than to hold her...so close, the closest he'd gotten.

And then he'd woken up.

Dante looked down at his clenched hand at the mangled remains of the doughnut that had squirted jelly over his fingers, and a smirk tugged at his mouth.

Was he losing it? His family worried about him enough as it was. And this was definitely not a subject that he could discuss with anyone he worked with without having to answer questions about his mental state or chemical abuse issues. He had taken enough psychology courses to know what the diagnosis would be if he told the precinct doctor that he was certain that some woman was calling out to him in his dreams and that there was a reason and a purpose for his finding and rescuing her in real life.

He wasn't exactly a proponent of psychic readings, but he was open minded enough to consider seeking psychic help on cold cases. So maybe he should make an appointment with one- after all, dream and vision analysis was their forte, and they were certainly used to being discreet in dealing with weird shit. They could probably answer some of his questions like, did the fact that he'd touched the young woman mean that she was near to him in real life? If so, how could he go about finding her? Should he even try?

Dante tossed back the remainder of his coffee. Time to stop lollygagging, he had to get to work. But that didn't mean he'd stop thinking about what his subconscious had been showing him night after night.

If this dream woman existed, they were meant to be together.

He was sure of it.

* * *

"Ooooh, noooo...ehere did I put those keys? I shouldn't have hit the snooze button! Taka is going to be so ticked off at me!"

Miaka Yuuki was in the process of ransacking her apartment. She scurried into her bedroom and began to frantically sift through the clutter of papers lying atop her dresser, then moved to the adjoining bathroom- only to emerge a few seconds later looking more perplexed than ever.

"Why didn't I think to have a spare set made when I moved in?" She inquired aloud to no one in particular. "Taka has a lunch meeting and an international client conference tonight -I won't see him at all today if I don't get going! I suppose I have to call a taxi…let's hope they can get here in ten minutes!"

Something soft and warm brushed against her bare ankles. Startled out of her self castigation, Miaka glanced down and straight into the blue-eyed stare of the feline sitting in front of her.

"I don't suppose you happened to have seen where I left my car keys, Mizu?"

The Siamese gave her a baleful stare, then looked away.

"You know where they are, don't you?" His owner exclaimed. "If you do, please tell me!"

The cat took its time stretching, then finally gave a reluctant meow.

"That's wonderful! Could you show me?"

Miaka followed closely as Mizu padded over to the unmade bed and pawed at the sleeves of discarded outfits that were hanging over its side. His mistress hurriedly tossed the pile of clothing aside and much to her delight found the missing keys that had been hidden underneath.

"Zu Zu, you've saved the day! Treats from the fish market for saving me from Taka's 'time is money' lecture!" Miaka exclaimed, stroking the cat's silky, smoke-colored fur as the animal feigned indifference. Not fooled by the display of aloofness, she continued the caress until her pet gave in, arching in contented pleasure as the sounds of deep purring filled the air.

"That's a good boy." She crooned, now scratching her kitty under his chin. "If only you would let Taka see what a softie you are."

The purring ceased as quickly if someone had hit an off switch, and Mizu pointedly moved out of reach, crooked tail twitching back and forth in quick, angry motions that spoke of his deep displeasure.

His mistress sighed.

"Don't take it so personally. It's not that Taka doesn't like you, he just has to keep his distance because he's allergic to you! I'm sure that will change once he starts on the allergy shots."

The cat growled and began to sharpen its claws on a nearby scratching post.

"And he's not going to have you de-clawed. I would never let him, even if he tried. So there's no need to get angry!"

A low yowl and increased vigor in swipes at the post said that her attempt to mollify had failed.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, kitty. I really don't want to argue with you, so let's change the subject." The skirt of her strapless sundress billowed around her, showing off the shapely legs beneath as she pirouetted in front of the dresser's long mirror. "All right. How do I look?"

The cat stopped its scratching and meowed. Miaka's smile returned.

"Thank you! It's so comfortable, and even better, it was a great deal at the discount store!" Her smile faded. "It's not the designer Taka favors, but I can't justify spending a half-month's rent, especially when he's helping me out with rent in the first place. I wish he'd let me take that other unit in my price range..."

Mizu's stare was unrelenting in its condemnation.

"Excuse me, but I did _not_ cave! If you recall, I've repeatedly said no to living with him." Turning away from the sharp feline gaze, Miaka made a pretense of straightening her hair. "This was a compromise."

Compromise or not, if someone had told her ten years ago that she would be living and working in Colorado Springs, USA, she would have laughed. And if someone had told her ten years ago that she would be doing those things while refusing to live with her longtime love Taka, she would have said they were delusional.

Yet here she was, doing just that.

In this day and age, living together before marriage was an accepted and even a respectable practice. But after getting through the mountain of paperwork involved in moving to a foreign country, becoming proficient in English and managing to find a sufficient means ot supporting herself, she had found herself reluctant to accept the live-in status offered to her instead of the designation of a soon-to-be-bride that she had envisioned herself as becoming once she arrived in America.

No ring had been forthcoming. Taka had wanted to establish himself and his career first.

And she'd found she preferred to have her own space while he did.

It wasn't easy living on her own in a strange place. But whenever loneliness threatened her resolve and self- doubts tempted her to give up her independence, a whisper deep in her heart said to hold on, that something good was about to happen and that she needed to stay right where she was.

That feeling had grown quite strong over the past few days.

And now, after weeks of texting and sporadic face to face encounters, Taka had phoned the day before and made an actual breakfast date with her on her day off. For him to take flex time on a weekday was totally unheard of. The fact that he would make that effort raised hopes that maybe he had finally realized that their relationship needed more than bare bones maintenence to survive.

Maybe today would be the day her patience was rewarded.

But she wasn't going to hold her breath.

* * *

After leaving some food and water for her pet, Miaka stepped out into the fresh mountain air and locked the door to her apartment. The early morning breeze sent a chill across her exposed skin, but she didn't bother to turn and go back for a jacket. Though it might feel a bit cool now, she'd been living in Colorado Springs long enough to know that a clear, cloudless sky over Pike's Peak was a strong indication of a scorching hot day to come. The sundress was a good choice.

Dashing down the outer stairway to the parking lot, she strode across the black asphalt to the flashy, scarlet colored LeBaron sportscar convertible that Taka had arranged for her to lease from a dealership.

After unlocking the door, she climbed in, tossing her purse into the seat next to her, and then set a bottle of mineral water into the cup holder between the driver and passenger seats. Since her arrival in Colorado six months ago, she had been advised by several natives to make a habit of drinking at least sixteen ounces of water first thing in the morning to combat the effects of high altitude and dry climate.

She would have to put off that little ritual until she got to the intended destination. If she didn't hurry, she'd lose the chance for the good conversation she hoped to have with Taka to the demands of his job. The clock was ticking, and a delay for an emergency potty stop wasn't acceptable in a world where time was as precious a commodity as money.

**To be continued…**

**Reviewers welcomed with a bag of doughnuts!**


	2. Chapter Two

**Leather and Lace**

**By: Maidens of Konan**

_(Disclaimer: Fushigi Yûgi is owned by Watase Yû, Shogakukan Comics, Pierrot Studios, TV Tokyo and Pioneer. We do claim the rights to the original ideas and characters out of the realm of canon FY. Please do not borrow them without written permission. Violators will be towed away by Nuriko and pummeled to a pulp. )_

_Chapter rating_ _: PG-13 for a bit of foul language from Officer Dante and co._

**Chapter Two**

Though the drive to work was easy and a favorite tune was playing on his stereo, Dante found himself unable to sing along like he usually did. A highly charged sense of anticipation had taken him over, telling him that for better or worse, this day was going to be a memorable one.

The feeling had intensified when he walked into the precinct and was greeted by the dispatcher telling him his boss wanted to see him right away.

When the captain of his precinct, John Connery, beckoned to him from his private office and closed the door upon his entrance, Dante knew that something was definitely amiss. In spite of that, not even the worst scenarios that flew through his mind prepared him for the bombshell that followed his leader's curt invitation to sit down.

"I'll cut to the chase, Tager. You're on city patrol until further notice."

"What the hell?" Dante exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "Get some rookie to fill in if you're short handed! I got follow ups to do on the Sukinami case-"

The Captain interrupted him by walking over and thrusting a garment bag into his arms, saying curtly, "We're not short. You're being reassigned."

Dante stared at the uniform beneath the clear bag as if it contained a live cobra. "Tell me you're jokin'!"

"I'm afraid not. It's yours."

"I was hired for the fuckin' plainclothes unit, dammit! What the hell's goin' on?"

Connery sighed heavily, running a hand through his short, iron gray hair. He hated like hell to lose a good cop like Dante Tager at such a crucial time in the investigation, but orders were orders and he had to follow them no matter how asinine he found the motivation behind them to be. "It seems you stepped on too many toes on your last outing to the company. Only took one phone call from the head honcho to city hall to get you get reassigned. The order came down from the commissioner himself."

Dante's savage grin exposed the tilted eyeteeth that had quickly earned him the nickname 'Fang Boy' amongst his coworkers. "Ha! Then my hunch was right! Someone's tryin' like hell to keep Sukinami out of reach!"

"I'd say so." The Captain agreed. "But that isn't going to make any difference to-"

"Sukinami's assistant makes excuses for him whenever I've called." Dante interrupted. "My text and email messages are blocked. Then finally, when I decide to take the bull by the horns and go there in person, all I get to see is some public relations talking head spewing corporate BS- don't ya see, Boss? He's gotta have some kinda idea or access to what's goin' down, or the powers that be wouldn't be tryin' to get me off his back! We're gettin' close, we can't ditch this now!"

The captain reseated himself behind his desk, which as usual, was littered with folders and printouts. As he leaned back in his chair, his ice blue eyes surveyed the brash but courageous young man who had more than earned his and his men's respect in the two years since joining the precinct. "You're probably right, but it appears the commissioner has other ideas about it." He stated bleakly. "My hands are tied. I have to follow his orders and put you on the patrol unit. That means no more working on the Sukinami case or any others until further notice."

"The Commish doesn't give a damn if twelve months' work is flushed down the crapper?"

"Apparently not."

"Hell's Bells, you have just as much time into this case as I have, John! It's not fair!"

"As a wise person once said, life isn't always fair." A scowl etched deep lines in Connery's tanned face. "It reeks of underhandedness, but there's nothing to be done but comply, at least until... "

Dante's dour expression brightened as the older man hesitated. "You have a plan to get me outta this?"

"Let's just say I've been around a long enough to witness a few things that the higher ups would rather forget about, and that I use that knowledge for the greater good of my precinct and the community." Connery's rasping chuckle held no humor. "The commissioner practically admitted to me in a personal memo that taking you off the case is illogical and idiotic, which is a sure sign that the order was made under political duress. Well, fuck that! The spineless weasel is pulling rank for his own profit, and I have no intentions of letting his piss ant political aspirations to screw up the promising career of the finest detective I've ever had work for me!"

Dante's face reddened at the rare compliment from the Captain. "Gee, Boss...I don't know what to say..."

"Then keep your yap shut!" Connery retorted. "You can help me out by going along with the traffic duty assignment while I call in a couple of favors to get you back where you belong." The older man shook his head as Dante started to thank him. "Not necessary. I'm doing this to save my ass as well as yours, but make sure you keep quiet about it with the others. The less any of you know about what I'm doing on this, the better."

The young detective nodded his head vigorously. "I gotcha! Don't ask. Not a word to the others. Plausible deniability!" He recited. "I know you don't wanna hear it, Captain…but thanks. it means a helluva lot that you're willin' to go to bat for me. There's gotta be something I can do in return!"

"That's not nec-"

"Name a favor or I'll name it for ya!"

Connery scowled. "It'd be like you to badger the hell out of me if I didn't. Fine, get me a ticket to a Broncos' game if it works out."

"One for you and one for Elise. Lower deck, fifty yard line." Dante countered.

"You strike a hard bargain, Fang Boy."

"Damn right I do. Deal?"

"Yeah."

Although not openly smiling, Connery's eyes held a twinkle as the two men shook hands across the desk. "Better get going- your shift starts in twenty minutes."

The redhead tossed off a casual salute and spun on his heel; as he did so, the silver and turquoise dangles in his ears caught the light. The Captain's eyes narrowed as they flew from the flashy earrings to the long tendrils of hair brushing the tops of the detective's broad shoulders.

"Hold up, Tager!" He barked.

Dante stopped in mid-stride and slowly turned to face his leader.

"Do something about the hippy-dippy hair and ditch the earrings- they're not regulation for patrol." The older man ordered. "And neither are necklaces, by the way," he added, spotting a matching glint of turquoise and silver peeking out from under the neckline of the young man's shirt. "It won't help your case if you get cited for uniform violations on your first day of reassignment."

Dante folded his arms across his chest, looking mutinous. "What's the big deal? We both know it's gonna be a temporary gig!"

"It's code, and temporary or not, I don't make exceptions for hot-shot detectives!" Connery growled, then picked up his pen and started working on his paperwork with feigned diligence. Perhaps if he avoided eye contact, he'd avoid provoking one of the infamous Connery-Tager shouting matches that provided fodder for wagering amongst the department in regards to who would be the winner by the end of the day. "That's all. You're dismissed!" He prompted, feeling heat from an intense glare burning into the top of his bent head. Sighing mentally, he waited for the inevitable.

"I'm willin' to ditch the jewelry for ya, Boss, but there's no way I'm cuttin' my hair for a temporary assignment!" Dante declared hotly. "No way in hell!"

Connery threw down his pen in exasperation.

"Fine! You don't have to cut it!" He bellowed. "But that damn braid of yours better be tucked out of sight at inspection or I'll fucking hack it off with my penknife right then and there! Are we clear on that, Sergeant?"

"Totally clear, sir!"

"Good! Now haul ass, I have work to do!"

"Yes sir! Thank you sir!"

With his new uniform slung over his arm and a triumphant grin on his face, Dante emerged from the office into the outer room to the accompaniment of catcalls and whistles from his fellow detectives. Connery got up to shut the door, shaking his head at the young man's vulgar but hilarious responses to the merciless ribbing. Judging by the volume and severity of the teasing, it was obvious Dante's peers also held the redhead in the highest esteem.

The kid had proven time and again since his arrival that he was a natural leader, and had the heart, guts and smarts to become a top- notch investigator. A promising future in law enforcement lay ahead of Dante if he was given a fair shake and half a chance- and he was the one who was going to help make that happen.

With a hardened resolve, John Connery pulled out his cell phone and began to make calls that would hopefully get his best detective back on the job.

* * *

Fifteen minutes after his meeting with his boss, an impeccably uniformed Dante strolled through the station, oblivious to the sympathetic smirks of his male co-workers and the blatantly admiring stares of the female ones. He had to admit the dress shirt, tie, and close- fitting breeches weren't as uncomfortable as they thought they'd be. The shoes were more like sneakers, and he also liked that he'd been issued a pair of the cool looking, expensive Ray Bans he had always secretly coveted. They almost made up for the jewelry that he'd been forced to stash away in his locker and his braid having to be tucked under his shirt collar.

Whistling a cheerful sounding tune, he headed out the back of the station and into the parking lot that held the marked squad cars. His displeasure with the task that lay ahead had lightened considerably when he realized that he'd have the chance to actually use the trademark siren and flashing red lights that he had dreamed of playing with as a little boy. Unfortunately, the work of a sergeant detective rarely called for the use of such things, and in Dante's particular case, it never had. He had gone from walking a beat in his rookie year to a plainclothes unit the next without ever having driven an honest-to-god, fully loaded police car.

He found his assigned vehicle, a powerful looking sedan marked with the number seven, and got in, shutting the door behind him with a satisfying thunk of reinforced steel against reinforced steel. After fastening his seat belt, he familiarized himself with the layout of the dash and the two way radio, then turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life and Dante tapped the accelerator experimentally, a grin spreading across his face at hearing the unmistakable sound of specially added horsepower.

Satisfied that all was well, he carefully backed the car out of its assigned spot and then, in a sudden fit of pique, proceeded to burn rubber out of the parking lot. Once out on the street, however, he drove sedately. Like it or not, he was wearing a uniform and had to set a good example for his fellow drivers. After several uneventful passes around the residential area near the station, he headed for the freeway with hopes that the change of venue would produce an opportunity for him to test the engine and the lights.

It didn't take long for his wish to be granted. As he reached the end of the entrance ramp, a scarlet LeBaron bore down on him, looming closer and closer in his rear view mirror without any appearance of slowing or moving over a lane to let him merge into traffic. With a loud curse, he prepared to take to the shoulder to avoid a collision, then desisted at the last second when the driver abruptly changed lanes and zoomed by him as if he were standing still. Considering that by now _he _was now going almost ten miles an hour over the posted speed limit himself, that was quite a feat.

As he prepared to give chase, Dante mentally shook his head at the foolhardy cheek of the driver, who, judging by the brief glimpse he had gotten as she'd passed him, appeared to be young and female.

"All right, lady-if ya want a ticket _that_ badly, I'll be more'n happy to oblige ya!"

* * *

As soon as she saw the flashing lights looming in her rear view mirror, Miaka automatically changed lanes to allow the policeman to go by her. To her horror, the squad car didn't pass her at all but moved in directly behind her, making it obvious that _she_ was the intended target. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she glanced down at the speedometer…and groaned loudly at what she saw. Doing eighty-five miles per hour in a sixty-five mile per hour zone…what had she been thinking? And now it was going to cost her dearly in time, as well as money!

Glancing up in her rear view mirror, she could see the officer making broad gestures for her to pull off onto the wide shoulder of the freeway. She complied immediately, not wanting to make a bad situation worse.

_This is no time to plead or make excuses. I'm a guest in this country. I'll apologize, accept the fine and be on my way._

* * *

Dante shifted the squad car into park and switched off the engine. Following his checklist, he dutifully ran a license number check, which came back negative on all counts, indicating a first offense. He debated with himself about calling in backup for the stop, and then decided against it. From what he could tell from this vantage point, it was a routine stop- some young twit with a lead foot and a bad-ass attitude. Hopefully a stern lecture about not tempting fate and a hefty fine would teach her to ease up on the accelerator.

After grabbing his ticket book off the dashboard, he opened the door of his vehicle and got out, taking a moment to slap the requisite patrolman's hat on his head, and to check that his braid was still safely tucked away under his shirt collar. He pushed the door shut, then moved toward the car in front of him with an easy stride that belied the fact that he was intently scanning the person inside the vehicle for any sign of hostile intent.

Everything seemed to be in order. He could see the young woman had both hands on the steering wheel and her head was tilted back against her seat so that her eyes were raised to the heavens. He also noticed that she appeared to be talking to herself.

_Probably cussin' a blue streak because she got busted!_ Dante thought in grim amusement. _What is it with these chicks in red sports cars? Do they think they're invincible or what? _

He was alongside the driver's window now. He tapped on the darkened glass, showed his official ID to the female driver inside the vehicle, then put it away while making motions for the window to be lowered. She immediately obeyed his directive, and he bent down to look inside the car, fully prepared to give its lone occupant the dressing down she deserved and the paper work necessary to considerably lighten her pocketbook.

That was the plan until the driver's window was lowered.

Thickly lashed, dark green eyes, whose shape proclaimed Asian heritage peeked at him from under a sexily tousled mass of auburn hair. A very feminine nose and lush looking, kissable lips followed those lovely and intriguing features, set perfectly within a upturned, heart-shaped face.

All thought of the lecture he'd been about to bestow were jolted right out of his head as she gave him a tentative smile. Somehow, somewhere, he'd seen that smile. But where? He snapped his gaping mouth closed and racked his brain, but a quick search of his social memory banks brought nothing to mind. It hadn't been a party or a bar or a club that he'd seen her, he was absolutely certain he'd have remembered meeting a hot babe like this, no matter where or when or how drunk he might have been at the time.

In fact, he couldn't recall ever meeting any Asian woman her age.

His gaze dropped to her bared shoulders, and he gave silent thanks for the sunglasses that allowed him that liberty, and which hid the fact that his eyes were most likely bugging out. Better men than he wouldn't have failed to notice how the bodice of a strapless purple sundress clung to the curves of two perfect breasts and hugged the contours of a trim waist. A full skirt covered the rest of her anatomy, but somehow he was sure that her hips and backside were of the nicely rounded variety, and that her legs would be lithe, long, and as sweetly curved as the rest of her.

If he'd been a wolf, his tongue would have been hanging down to his knees.

All the time he'd been staring, she'd been politely waiting for him to speak. Just his damn luck that he had a job to do.

"Mornin', ma'am." He spoke gruffly, trying to cover for his loss of cool. "I need to see your license and registration."

"Good morning, Officer." She responded in a gentle, clear voice that carried a more than a hint of an accent as she handed over the requested documents. "Here you are."

"Thanks." Dante said, then scrutinized them all with an intent that was far more personal than professional. Among her documentation was a passport, a green card, and paperwork showing that she had applied for permanent residential status. Her present residence was in Colorado Springs. This was good.

But there was no marital status given.

"Everything looks fine. You can have these back...er..." he pretended to glance at her license. "Mrs. Yuuki."

"It's _Miss _Yuuki." She corrected with gratifying speed. "And thank you."

Dante suppressed an unreasonable sense of jubilation as he placed the papers in her outstretched hand. After all, gorgeous or not, she had still broken the law.

"Well all right, _Miss_ Yuuki." He couldn't help but add extra emphasis to the title. "Now that the preliminaries are over, would you mind tellin' me where the fire is?"

"Fire?" Her brow wrinkled. "What fire?"

"That's what I'm askin', ma'am."

"I-I'm afraid I don't understand. Please forgive my ignorance."

Her eyes held anxiety and genuine bewilderment. As excellent as her English was, it obviously had limits.

Dante was torn between wanting to apologize for and laughing at the epic failure of his sarcasm.

"You're not ignorant. I was just giving you-um, I mean, I was just makin' a joke about your speed." He said, not caring if he sounded warmer and more conversational than he should have done considering the circumstances. "Ya see, I clocked you doing in excess of eighty miles an hour. And to top it off, ya cut me off in changing lanes back by the ramp."

"Ohhh nooo..." Her eyes and voice held total chagrin. "That's awful! I'm awful! I'm so sorry!"

"You should be." He smiled to take the sting out of the words, fully exposing the tilted canines that resembled fangs. "Anyway, what I meant by asking where the fire is was that anyone driving a car in _that_ big of a hurry better be a firefighter, a paramedic, or some kind of... a..."

He subsided into perplexed silence at seeing his detainee was openly staring at his mouth. He stared back, fighting the urge to touch his face and check his teeth for food particles. Why was she looking at him like that?

As if in answer to his thoughts, she spoke in a hushed tone.

"It's you. Tasuki..."

Her expression was a mixture of awe, hope and tenderness.

Was this a good thing? And who or what the hell was 'Tasuki'?

"Miss Yuuki?" He prodded gently, not wanting to startle her. "Are ya feelin' all right?"

The strange light was still in her eyes, and the slight nod of her head was an afterthought. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine."

He waited for more, but when no explanation was forthcoming, Dante folded his arms and regarded the woman in front of him with reluctant suspicion. Iit would stand to reason, with his current run of bad luck, that this sweet and charming hottie would turn out to be an airhead or a fruitcake. And yet he felt a strong connection to her, and the sense that here was someone who deserved his protection and everything else that was in his power to give. It was a feeling that was way outside his scope of experience to date.

Okay, he was too impatient. The woman looked as if she was on the verge of tears. She obviously needed to regain her composure before she could explain anything. He didn't know what he'd do if she started to cry...

She didn't, much to his relief.

"I apologize again, Officer." She said, with an embarrassed little smile. "Please forgive my rudeness in staring at you so boldly."

_Stare all you want, sweetheart_. "It's okay."

"No it isn't, but there is a reason...not that this would be of any interest to you-"

He broke in. "If you don't mind, I'd like to know. I mean, you kinda looked like you're seein' a ghost."

"For a minute, I thought that I was." She said softly. "You have a very strong resemblance to an old and dear friend of mine."

_So I remind her of someone she knows. Good. __I knew she wasn't a nutjob. _"A good old friend, huh? Have to say I've never been told I look like anyone else, but I've heard that everybody's got a twin somewhere."

"Which must be true, because your smile is exactly like his." She said. "It's been a very long time since I've seen him, so I'm afraid it was a bit of a shock."

He had to ask. "So how long has it been? And where is he?"

"I last saw him..." she hesitated, as if doing some calculating, "...about ten years ago, when I was visiting a... very remote part of China."

Dante's jaw dropped. "My twin is in_ China_?"

She giggled a little at his astonishment. "Yes. And to answer the question you asked me earlier, I'm not associated with any sort of emergency organization. Please write up whatever amount you think I should pay for a fine."

"What?" Dante said, now distracted from the subject of his Chinese look-alike. "You _want_ me to write you a ticket?"

"Yes. I know that policemen have quotas to make, and it's the least I can do to make up for my rudeness in cutting you off."

_She's dead serious_, Dante thought. _It's her first offense. She was wrong, but what it could it hurt to let her off the hook with a warning, just this once?_

"Look, I take it you've never gotten one of these bad boys before, have ya?" He asked, holding up the citation book. When she inclined her head in silent affirmation, he continued. "Well let me say that a speeding ticket in these parts is pricey! You should at least try to give me a reason not to give ya one." Okay, that was kind of ridiculous, but he'd happily listen to sob stories and excuses from her if it meant he'd be in her company that much longer. "What I'm sayin' is that I do get some discretion in handing these out, and I can take any mitigating circumstances into consideration." There, that sounded better.

She still shook her head. "Thank you, but I don't think that being late for a breakfast date with my boyfriend qualifies as a legitimate excuse for speeding."

He wasn't surprised to hear there was a boyfriend. But that lack of surprise didn't keep him from feeling as if he'd just had a bucket of ice water dumped on his head. "It might not qualify, but again, it's your first offense, so I'll just-"

She interrupted. "I can't let you do that! Please don't!"

Dante knew his stare was close to being a glare. It was stupid, but he was actually getting mad that she wouldn't let him help her. Was she that scrupulous, or was she just that stubborn? Whichever it was, he had no right to find out. And that pissed him off even more.

"Okay, suit yourself!" He said brusquely. "I was tryin' to be nice an' give ya a break, but if ya want a ticket, it's no skin off my nose."

"I understand. And I appreciate your offer, but I'm not worthy of your kindness."

She was no longer meeting his gaze. Her profile was downcast, and the hand that brushed back her hair to curl around one delicately rounded ear was unsteady.

Dante wanted to smack himself upside the head.

He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. She'd been nothing but honest and cooperative, and he was taking his disappointment out on her. Even if he was feeling cheated and frustrated, there was no cause to be a jerk.

But dammit! Why did she have to have a boyfriend?

And why did she have to look so sweet when being chastised?

"Women don't play fair." He mumbled.

She looked up. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

Great, that was all he needed, having her thinking he was bitter and some kind of woman hater! "It's not worth repeatin'." He said ruefully. "I was mostly talkin' to myself."

"I do that." She confessed, looking sideways at him. "I even yell at myself sometimes."

He decided to risk some teasing. "Yeah, I know. I could see you after I pulled you over!"

It was amazing how much her blush and cute little laugh improved his disposition and his outlook on the situation.

_Why am I givin' up?_ _She's still fair_ _game if they're_ _not engaged. I better find out if they are before I make an even bigger ass of myself._

Straightening, he flipped open his ticket book, reached for a pen, and began to fill out the ticket, writing as slowly as possible as a blatant delay tactic. After finishing the citation, he carefully detached it from his notebook and held it and her license out to her in a way that would make her use her left hand to grab them. The ploy worked perfectly. As she took the offered items, his heart leapt at seeing the state of her left hand.

No rings. Absolutely no tan line indication that she ever had worn one. Though his expression remained impassive, inwardly Dante was grinning from ear to ear.

No woman would forget to put on a diamond for a date, right? And if it were a cemented relationship, she wouldn't be ringless.

Or, for that matter, thinking about some other special guy from her past. A guy that she just said resembled _him. _

Which wasn't necessarily a _bad_ thing if it gave him some leverage.

So. He had her name, phone number and an address for an apartment complex that he knew was only a few blocks from the station. It wouldn't be hard to arrange an 'accidental' meeting and ask her out for dinner or to a movie. He'd say goodbye for now knowing he'd definitely be finding and seeing her again.

Unless, of course, she got in an accident due to reckless driving. The thought was unbearable, and he had to do something about it right now.

"There's one more thing, Miss Miaka." His tongue lingered over the syllables of a name that seemed to flow over his lips as easily as cream from a pitcher. "Am I pronouncing that correctly?"

"Yes, it was perfect."

Even without the confirmation, the way she was smiling at him said that he'd scored some major points. Emboldened by the encouragement, Dante took a deep breath. Yeah, it was probably insane to think he had a chance, given the boyfriend. But what the hell, he hadn't gotten this far by sticking to the rules. What he was about to say now was straddling the boundary between professional and not, but he was willing to breach that to let this woman know that he cared and wanted to see her again.

He crouched down so that he was on a level with bewitching green eyes.

"Miss Miaka, I would like to ask you for a personal favor." He said, with a seriousness that took the smile from her face.

"Of course." She said, now looking as serious as he. "What is it?"

"I want ya to swear to me that you'll keep to the speed limit, even if you're late. It ticks me off to know that you were in a rush because the guy you're with wouldn't understand that it's worth waiting a few extra minutes for ya to arrive safely for a date! If he can't do that, then the moron doesn't deserve to be with ya! It only takes a couple seconds to lose control of a car at high speed, and...well, let's just say _I'd_ be pretty upset if the next time I saw ya, your pretty face was covered by a sheet!"

For a long, belly twisting moment she said nothing.

Then she nodded, and he could breathe again.

"I swear to you, Officer," she said, "that I will pay very close attention to the road _and_ always keep to the posted speed limits from now on."

"No matter what?" He pressed, holding her gaze.

She nodded. "No matter what!"

He had no doubts that she would keep her word, which brought him an overwhelming sense of satisfaction.

So did the warmth in her eyes and her smile, which said she welcomed his concern.

"Good." He said, unbending enough to give her a smile in return. "Thank you."

"I'm the one who should be thanking you." She responded earnestly. "You're wonderful."

He actually felt a blush coming on. "I wouldn't go that far."

"I would! It matters to me that you truly care about protecting a stranger's life."

The passionate way she spoke had his heart jumping against his chest. _Ah what the hell_. _Let's go for broke_.

"You're not a stranger." He said. "I know _exactly_ who you are, Miss Miaka Yuuki."

He stood up as she stared at him with an open mouth and huge eyes. A strange sort of energy was in the air between them, crackling and pulsing with the power of unspoken emotion. Dante adjusted his sunglasses. Was he seeing things? There seemed to be a faint aura surrounding her, crimson in hue...

"You know who I am?" She asked, in a voice that was slightly tremulous.

"Yes ma'am!" He tapped the ticket book in his hand. "I have your name, address and phone number logged right in here…" his finger moved to his temple, "…and in here."

She blinked and then laughed, seemingly at herself. The glowing aura was now gone. Probably an effect created by the angle of sunlight bouncing off her rear view mirror, Dante thought with a mental shrug.

He was more interested in the fact that she was now giving him a smile that definitely crossed the line to flirtatious.

"Since you know me, may I ask you something, Officer?"

"Anything! Just shoot it at me!"

Her gaze dropped down to his side arm. She made a gesture at the gun, then looked up at him with a worried look. "You really want me to do that?"

He took a hasty step backwards. "No! That's just another expression-"

He stopped short at seeing her grin.

"I was joking." She said. Her eyes held laughter and gentle accusation. "Like you were with the fire."

"Yeah, okay. I guess deserved that." He acknowledged with a sheepish laugh. "So what can I answer for ya?"

"It's a personal question."

_Could this be going any better?_ Dante thought gleefully. _She wants to get personal!_

But she was looking shy again. He'd better be careful in replying.

"All right." He said, keeping his voice friendly but neutral. "What is it?"

She hesitated. A blush had tinted her skin a becoming shade of pink. He'd love the chance to bring out that hue in much more intimate circumstances...

"I can't tell with your hat on, do you happen to be a redhead?" She blurted, then lifted her hands to her face. "I'm sorry! I'm being way too forward-"

Dante was a little bemused. Asking about his hair color was considered being forward and a personal question?

Ah well. What mattered is that she wanted to know more about him.

"That's nothing!" He assured her with a grin. "You could be even more forward and I wouldn't mind."

Before the potential inappropriateness of that assertion had a chance to sink in, he divested himself of his hat with a flourish.

"Here's your answer." He said. "See for yourself!"

**To be continued…**

**All reviews welcomed with cheers and the happy bandit dance!**


	3. Chapter Three

**Leather and Lace**

**By: Maidens of Konan**

_Disclaimer: This absolutely-not-for-profit story is based on the manga and anime versions of Fushigi Yûgi __owned by Watase Yû, Shogakukan Comics, Pierrot Studios, TV Tokyo, Pioneer and Viz. The rights to the original characterizations and ideas appearing in this story should not be copied or used without permission. Anyone who steals or plagiarizes will feel the clobbering wrath of 'The Thing'. _

_Author's Note:_ For the record, law enforcement officers are consummate professionals as well as heroes. Please forgive and indulge the artistic liberties taken with police protocol for the purpose of furthering the plot.

**Chapter Three**

Even though she had expected to see it, Miaka gasped softly as the policeman took off his hat and a full head of flame-colored hair was revealed.

The smooth, molten strands seemed to kindle beneath the sun's rays, just like Tasuki's had always done.

It was a riveting sight.

Smirking self-consciously, the police officer turned his head from one side to the other, presumably to aid her perusal of him. As he did so, she saw that a severely combed back hairstyle hid the fact that his hair was much longer than first appeared; the thick, fiery strands at the nape of his neck dipped well down inside the collar of his shirt. He ran a hand over the luxuriant mass, and the gesture dislodged his slicked back bangs. Several of them slid down onto his forehead, where the top of his Ray Bans halted their progress.

"Guess I just gave away my secret." He said.

"Your secret?" She echoed.

"This," he pointed to an unruly hank of hair, "is not even close to regulation length for a uniformed cop."

_Maybe so, but I'm glad he hasn't cut it short, _Miaka thought, smiling at the notion that this man and Tasuki would share a penchant for rule bending. "My friend's hair color was the same as yours." She told him. "A gorgeous shade of red."

He cleared his throat. "Well thanks. Glad ya like it."

In the awkward pause that followed, Miaka tried hard not to let her interest in the man standing next to her overwhelm her. The idea of Tasuki being reborn into her world was almost too much to believe in, but it would explain the connection she was feeling to someone she'd just met. The possibility excited her in ways that it shouldn't have, considering she had committed to being with Taka.

But how could it be wrong to want it to be him? She owed the valiant and loyal Tasuki a debt that she'd never gotten a chance to repay. Finding out why he'd be reborn in this world and was the least she should do.

Everything about this man was familiar. If only she could see his eyes.

She wished he'd take off those darn sunglasses.

"Miss Miaka?"

She gave a visible start."Hai! I mean, yes, Officer?"

He chuckled. "You've gotten a good look at my hair. Was there anythin' else ya wanted to see?"

His tone was polite, but she sensed mischief in his smile. Again, she was reminded of Tasuki, who had always enjoyed getting her riled up with his teasing. But unlike Tasuki, this man had been nothing but patient and courteous with her. Which also flustered her, because it made her conscious that wasn't appropriate to take his time with nonsensical questions when he had a job to do.

"Thank you for being so nice." She said.

_"_Nice? Wow, _that's_ a word I wouldn't expect to be hearin' from someone I just gave a ticket to!"

"Well, yes...I'm kind of weird that way." She wrinkled her nose as he laughed. "Still, it's true. You've been very nice to me."

"It's been my pleasure." He said. His tone held a finality that said that he recognized their conversation was at a point where they could no longer delay the inevitable. "Okay. So, I guess if there's nothin' else...you can take off whenever you're ready. "

She was free to go, but she said nothing and her hand made no move toward the ignition. Was it just wishful thinking or a coincidence? Or had Tasuki found his way here?

How would she find out for sure if she drove away now and couldn't find him again?

He was on the job. Maybe she could ask him to have a cup of coffee and a slice of pie after he got off work? But no, she could hardly ask him to accompany her anywhere after telling him she had a boyfriend! What reason could she give for asking him?

Her gaze sought out the faint glint of the eyes hidden behind dark lenses.

Those eyes would tell the story. If they were the same, what would she do?

Several seconds had elapsed without her having any idea of how she could prolong their encounter.

She sighed heavily.

* * *

She'd signed the register and put away the ticket without hesitation, which she wouldn't have done if her intent was less than sincere. So it stood to reason that her doleful expression and sigh meant Miaka was just as bummed out about leaving him as he was about having to let her.

And that, Dante thought, made him very happy.

Despite learning the hard way that it was best to keep his distance and his feet on the ground when it came to women with prior relationships, there was no containing what he was feeling, or that the simmering hope that he'd set out to face the world with this morning was now a bubbling kettle full of real possibilites.

He couldn't explain what had happened in the last few minutes or why it had happened. All he knew was that the moment he'd laid eyes on Miaka, all of the women he had been romantically involved with had been reduced to footnotes in his life story.

There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that she was feeling the same connection with him that he was with her.

But there was a fly in the soup. Just how serious was she about the unknown boyfriend?

* * *

There was no more to be said, and yet the redhaired policeman hadn't moved an inch. He seemed to be waiting for her to take the intiative to leave.

She realized with a start that she didn't have a name for him. He'd shown her his ID, but she hadn't really paid attention at the time. He wasn't wearing a nameplate, which gave her an excuse to ask him for his name. But wouldn't asking for it at this point worsen the impression she had made on him? She was a law breaking foreigner who had called him by a foreign name, then followed up that gaffe by asking personal questions and taking up his time for selfish reasons. She'd hate to add any more negatives to that list.

And besides, he would have introduced himself if he really wanted further contact, wouldn't he?

"I suppose...I should be going." She said with reluctance.

"Yeah, I suppose you should." The star of her thoughts said. "I'll wait until you leave. Make sure you're givin' yourself plenty of space between cars before you pull out."

She nodded, trying to hide her disappointment behind a smile. "I'll take my time."

"Good." He hesitated. "So. I'll be seein' ya."

The words were casual, his expression masked. And yet there was something in his voice that made them sound like a promise rather than a goodbye.

"Hopefully it's when you're off duty!" She said without thinking.

As soon as the words were out, her stomach dropped to her shoes. What she had meant as a little joke, came out sounding as if she were hitting on the man!

But the officer wasn't looking offended. Quite the opposite in fact, if she could judge by the ear to ear grin he was now wearing.

Her face heated at the possible cause for that grin, even as a tentative response to it curved her lips.

* * *

It was green light all the way, Dante told himself happily. Hints didn't get any more obvious than that, and by God, there was no question that he'd be following up! Unfortunately, direct pursuit of female companionship on the job had always been against _his _personal code of honor, as well as the rules governing his conduct as an officer of the law. He would have to bide his time and hope that the hint he was about to throw out in return would help set the table for a future off the clock meeting.

"You know I'm very disposed to making that happen." He replied, letting the suggestion hang between them.

It was as much as he dared say, but her reaction said that she understood. The smile, the blushing...she was too damn cute!

Time to go, while he still had a grip on duty.

He donned his hat, then touched two fingers to the brim.

"Until we meet again, Miss Miaka. You take care."

Her hand fluttered to the ignition switch, and closed around the key. "I will, thank you. And you too. Please be safe."

Knowing he had her address and phone number were the only things that enabled Dante to turn from her window and walk away. But after a few steps, the lack of a starting engine made him stop and turn in place.

Well now, wasn't that interesting? The adorably shy Miss Yuuki wasn't making any move to start her car because she was too busy checking out his rear view in her side mirror.

That was more than fine with him.

Facing forward once more, Dante tucked his ticket book into his pocket and slowed his stride to a deliberate stroll.

* * *

Miaka watched with rapt fascination as Tasuki's look-alike sauntered back to his patrol car, barely aware that her hands were now tightly gripping the steering wheel while she tried to convince herself that what she was seeing wasn't possible.

But the bubble of excitement welling inside her kept expanding in spite of her efforts to contain it.

The reasonance of his voice, the flame red hair, the fanged smile, the forthrightness, the unwavering, confident demeanor were identical to Tasuki's- well, as identical as they could be if her seishi had been born an American.

And there was the feeling, a feeling she hadn't had from anyone but Taka since she was last in the book. The unbreakable bond she had shared with each celestial warrior was as individual as they were. The feeling of Tasuki was like nothing else. Experiencing that connection, one that she had dearly missed, made it difficult for her to be objective in deciding what to do.

That he seemed to be attracted to her as much as she was to him complicated things even further.

Before she made any decision, before she did something rash, she should really get the perspective of the man who shared her secret.

Relaxing her grip on the steering wheel, she reached for the pocket book lying on the seat beside her. While keeping one eye on the retreating figure in her mirror, she fumbled inside the purse and finally pulled out the cel phone that Taka insisted she carry at all times. Hopefully he was still at the restaurant. If not, she'd have to text him about what happened and her discovery.

The screen flickered when she tapped the number and send button, and she sighed in exasperation at seeing the readout message that the battery was too low for calling or sending messages. She had forgotten to recharge it.

Taka was going to have a fit. He had probably been trying to contact her for the entire time she had been topped. She pursed her lips in vexation, but then shrugged. It wasn't like it was the end of the world to be yelled at, and if she were honest about it, not charging the phone was probably a sign of her resentment at having the thing. The pages, voice mails and interrupted calls seemed to have taken away Taka's physical presence in her life, not to mention it had become the electronic equivalent of a leash, ensuring she didn't go too far astray while he was off doing whatever he had do to without her.

As long as she was going to be in trouble anyway, she might as well enjoy the respite.

Tossing the phone on top of her purse, she turned her attention back to the mirror, and a smile immediately appeared. There was just no denying it- the man definitely had Tasuki's patented, bandit-style swagger!

With that acceptance, came the realization that she couldn't just let him walk away without at least finding out what his name was…and that she'd have to be quick about it because he was almost back to his car.

She grabbed her keys from the ignition and quickly opened her door, swinging her legs out as she called out to him. "Oh, Officer! Officer! Please…wait!"

* * *

As he paused and turned her way, her heart skipped a beat. The way he moved, the power and grace in his bearing, was oh so familiar.

She could feel the inevitable blush stinging her cheeks, and she held on tightly to the set of keys to disguise the trembling of her hands as kept walking until she was directly in front of him.

"Are ya havin' car trouble?" He asked, as she came to a halt.

The unabashed hope in his tone made her pulse flutter, as did being in close proximity to him. He was lean and fit. And so tall... the top of her head was more than an inch short of reaching the underside of his chin.

"No, the car is fine." His grin faded at the denial, but then reappeared in force as she took a deep breath and continued. "But I was thinking. Don't you think that it's only fair that I have your name, since you have mine?"

"I'd say it's more than fair." Even through the shield of his sunglasses, the masculine interest in his gaze was apparent. She was now absolutely sure that she wasn't the _only _one feeling the strong chemistry between them. "The name's Dante Tager."

She repeated it, tilting her head thoughtfully. "It's a good name. Unique and strong. It suits you, Officer Tager."

"Thank you." He replied. "If you'd like, I'd prefer it if you'd just call me Dante."

"All right." She agreed happily. Being on a first name basis with someone she just met wouldn't be condoned in Japan, but this was everyday America, where asking for and using someone's first name was actually considered proper as a way of extending the warm hand of friendship. "At the risk of making you think I'm a complete nutcase, Dante-san, could I ask you for one more favor?"

"Name it."

His immediate agreement was a bit disconcerting. "Thank you. Could...would you mind...removing your sunglasses so that I could see your eyes?"

Though his slight hesitation indicated that he did think it an unusual request, Dante did as she asked without question.

Removing his hat, he slowly slid his Ray Bans down and off his nose.

As he turned his naked gaze upon her for the first time, Miaka's breath caught and her eyes grew misty. Though the almond shape of Dante's eyes wasn't asian in origin, those exotic, amber colored irises could not have belonged to anyone other than a reborn Tasuki.

She hadn't dared to dream it was possible to have another of her seishi join with her in this world after being given the gift of a reborn Tamahome.

But here was living proof of another dream come true standing right in front of her.

Emotion overwhelmed her, and she unthinkingly reached up to touch the face that had been haunting her dreams since her last sojourn in Konan.

Dante remained silent and still, accepting the gentle caress of her fingers down his cheek to the line of his jaw as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He was reassuringly real.

His breath warmed her skin.

His lips were just inches away from her fingertips.

Even in America, touching a stranger like this was improper.

_But he isn't a stranger to me! And how can I explain that? __Hearing that he's a reincarnation of a celestial warrior from another world would certainly go over well with Officer Dante Tager. _She thought ruefully. _I'm sure he'll have no problem accepting that I first met him because of my falling into a book._

The thought stung her out of her trance. Jerking her hand back, she gave a laugh tinged with nerves_. _"I'm really sorry. I...don't really have a good excuse to give you for doing that."

His eyes were solemn. "Sure you do. It's 'cause I look like an old friend that you miss, right?"

She simply nodded, moved by his insight.

"Does it upset ya that I do?"

"Not at all." She stated with unwavering certainty.

"Good." He nodded, then replaced his Ray Bans with the air of a man on a mission, and she thought that was going to be the end of it.

It wasn't.

"I gotta be honest and say that I'm glad ya did that, Miaka." He said. "It kinda breaks the ice, and gives me a chance to ask you somethin' personal too, if you don't mind."

So it wasn't the end. Knowing that, and his use of her name without a preceeding honorific made her heart beat faster. "I will be happy to answer."

He looked down at his hands, which were clenched around the brim of his hat. "I know this is awkward. And I know we just met under less than ideal circumstances an' all. But unofficially, as someone who's unattached myself, I was kinda wonderin'…well...if you're exclusive with the guy you were goin' to see today?"

Miaka blinked in surprise, and then consternation. Once again, she 'd completely forgotten about Taka. Actually, everything that was happening to her was a bit hazy. But though she felt oddly lightheaded and her pulse was thumping in her temples, she couldn't help but smile at Dante. The man wasn't exactly shy, but his hesitancy suggested unexpected restraint and an inherent courtesy, which she found surprising and endearing.

He was waiting for her answer. But what could she say? She _was_ in a solid, committed relationship with Taka, and she'd never hesitated telling any other man that this was so.

But this time she wasn't saying a word.

Now that she'd met Dante Tager, nothing in her world felt rock solid.

Of course, that feeling could have also been due to the fact that her head felt disconnected from her body, and that the earth had begun to lurch and tilt beneath her feet. With a sharp sound of distress, she reached out a hand in a desperate attempt to steady herself against the squad car, but her blurred vision caused her to misjudge the distance.

A stifled cry escaped her as she felt herself pitching forward.

Then suddenly, miraculously, strong hands were grabbing her arms as a warm and very solid body stopped her fall.

A small sound of relief escaped her as she was gathered into a protective embrace. She allowed herself to lay her head against the wall of Dante's chest while her eyelids drooped. She inhaled slowly, taking in deep breaths and the reassuring essence of the man who held her.

They stood in silence for a minute, and then two.

When she had begun to feel reasonably steady, Miaka raised her head.

"Th-thank you, Dante." She stammered, acutely aware of the firm pectorals that rose and fell beneath her palms.

"You're welcome." He said. "How are you doing?"

"I think it'll be okay now." Her hands gently pushed him in the opposite direction as she began to step back and out of his arms. "I'm feeling better."

"Yeah, right." He scoffed, as she immediately swayed and stumbled.

"Really, I'm okay." She protested in a weak voice, as he reestablished his hold on her.

Dante's sunglasses had slipped down his nose once again, and for a moment his naked gaze burned into hers. "The hell you are! I can feel you shaking and you're as pale as a ghost!"

Miaka barely heeded his tone; she was too caught up in watching his entrancingly shaped lips forming words. His scent was heady, a mixture of soap and nature. She was also very conscious of the taut, flexing musculature of the body pressing into hers and that the arms that encased her were steely strong yet delightfully gentle.

Lifting her head a bit more, she met her rescuer's gaze, admitting silently that even with as ill as she was feeling, his hot, hungry eyes sparked an answering need within her.

Had Tasuki ever looked at her in that way? She couldn't recall that he had, other than the night he had taken her to the inn. But then he'd been under the influence of the demon lord Hikou. If the feelings the bandit seishi had harbored for her had been in any way romantic, Tasuki hadn't acted on them on his own. And why would he have, anyway? Tamahome was his friend, and she'd made it clear back then she couldn't see herself with anyone but Tamahome.

But what about now? Dante didn't know Taka at all, so there was no conflict of loyalty. And her own feelings of estrangement from Taka didn't exactly preclude having a change of heart. Which led her to think that it wasn't a coincidence that she had crossed paths with this man at this time. When it came to the book's machinations, events like this didn't happen by random chance. They were scripted, the result of planning and choice.

The sound of a rudely blaring horn and a ribald catcall from a passing vehicle finally penetrated the spell of contemplation that had fallen.

Dante muttered something uncomplimentary about the motorist as he pushed up his sunglasses with an impatient gesture.

"I should have had some water." She whispered, embarrassed, but loath to leave the security of the arms that held her.

In an instant, his full attention was back to her. 'Fraid I don't have any here, but I'll be glad to go get ya some."

"Thank you so much, but I have some in my car." She replied. "I should have taken the time to drink it earlier. If I don't keep myself fully hydrated, I get the effects of altitude sickness."

He nodded in understanding. "That's the one catch to livin' here."

"It's not a problem, usually. I drink a twelve ounce bottle of water every morning before I leave my place, but today I was in such a hurry that I skipped-oh _no_!" She broke off and jerked upright at the reminder of her original destination. "I need to find a place to make a phone call. My cel phone is dead, and I'm so late for breakfast!"

Dante had relaxed his hold, but his hands lingered at her waist as she backed out of his arms-slowly this time. "That was a pretty serious header ya took. You sure you can drive?"

"Oh yes! I'm fine!" She gave him her most chipper smile to prove it just before her world began to spin once more.

Dante reacted with lightning quick reflexes as she swayed forward, catching her and then lifting her up into his arms in one fluid motion.

"It's pretty obvious to me that you aren't fine!" He informed her startled face. "You're not drivin' anywhere. I'm takin' ya straight home!"

"Don't be silly, that spell wasn't half as bad as the first one!" She protested, even as her arms slid up and around his neck. "I'll be fine after I drink the water in my car. If I don't show, my boyfriend will wonder what happened-"

Dante interrupted.

"_You're _the silly one if you think I'll allow you to get behind the wheel!" He stated with authority. "You're in no condition to drive. I'll drop ya off at your home, an' you can call your date from there an' make arrangements for him or someone else to pick up your car. If he has a problem with that, I'll give you a number where he can page me an' I'll set him straight!"

Though she was being chided, Miaka couldn't hold back a goofy smile. Dante's temper, his take charge attitude and even his distinctive accent were truly uncanny in their resemblance to Tasuki's. Even as he yelled at her, the way he cradled her in his arms, as if she were something very delicate and precious, was an insight into who he was as a man…

_Stop thinking that way!_ She quickly scolded herself. _H__e has no idea who he was! And he's only doing his job!_

But as was often the case, her heart was refusing to listen to her head. Something in the way Dante Tager was fussing over her told her his concern was very real and very personal. Because of that strong impression and how good it made her feel, she yielded to temptation.

"Fine, you can take me home." She conceded. "But I am certainly capable of getting to the car under my own power-and you can stop giving me that look! If makes you feel better, I'll hold onto your arm as I walk, okay?"

"Fine." Dante's reply was curt, but she noticed that he was extra careful about setting her back on her feet.

He reached down to retrieve his hat from the ground, where it had lain unnoticed since being dropped in all the excitement, and after dusting it off against his knees, slapped it on his head with a grimace that spoke volumes of what he thought about having to wear one.

"Okay! Let's get ya over to the passenger's side and then I'll go lock up your vehicle."

As he took her elbow and began to lead her around the car with slow, almost painstaking steps, Miaka laughed to herself. _Nothing's changed at all! He barks at me, then handles me like he thinks I'm about to break. _

Once they were on the squad car's passenger side, Dante went to open the door. "Dang, it's locked. Stay here."

After making sure she was leaning in against the door, he quickly circled around the vehicle and tried the other door. When it refused to budge, he felt his pockets-then whipped off his sunglasses and bent down to look through the window. A spate of profanity followed.

"Something's wrong." She said as he straightened.

Folding and jamming his sunglasses into a pocket, he glared down at the door and then across at her. "Yeah. My fuckin' keys are fuckin' locked in the fuckin' patrol car!"

She was sure Dante wouldn't take kindly to her laughing at him or their predicament, so she gnawed on her lip to stifle a giggle and refrained from comment. Her eyes were soft with warmth and concern as she watched him look away and take several deep breaths.

He then turned back to give her an apologetic half-smile.

"Sorry 'bout the language. I have this nasty habit of cussin' when I fu- uh, mess up something."

She was still struggling, but somehow managed to maintain a straight face. "It wasn't anything I haven't heard before. And quite an understandable reaction, given the present situation."

Dante yanked his hat from his head and ran an agitated hand through his hair, dislodging more flame-colored strands from his comb-back. "The spares are back at the station, but they might as well be on Neptune! My two way is in the car, so I can't even radio for a backup!"

"Dante-san."

"This sucks! The guys will never let me live it down-"

"Pardon me?" She held up her car keys and shook them to get his attention. "We could take my car."

His scowl disappeared in an instant. "Ya don't mind?"

"Of course not! I don't think we want to stay here, do we? Although I certainly wouldn't mind the company."

She'd never known she had it in her to be this flirtatious. It was fun.

Grinning, he accepted her offer. "But I'm drivin'!"

She handed over the set of keys with a sigh and a roll of her eyes, then put her hand on his arm as he pointedly offered it.

"You're very obstinate, aren't you?" She asked, smiling at him.

"I'd say that goes both ways." He retorted.

"You think that I'm stubborn?"

"Oh yeah. And too damn cute for your own good, which means I gotta keep my eye on ya."

* * *

Of all the clever comebacks he could have made, he had to come up with something that sounded like a B movie pick up line.

But it was effective in getting her to the car without further argument. Whether that was because she was feeling sick again or because she was thinking he was a total cornball putz, he couldn't tell.

_Real smooth, Tager_. _Any more_ d_umbass remarks like that one an' you'll end up walkin' back to work! _

He kept his eyes forward as they walked, conscious that the slightest brush of her body against his was making him hotter and hotter for her. An extremely intimate thought followed that observation, and he pushed it aside. He definitely wasn't the bashful type, and usually didn't regret anything he said or did. But it was humbling to have his feelings for this woman reducing him to the rank of a hormone-fueled teenage boy hanging with a girl he wanted more than anything.

After he had settled his conspicuously quiet charge into the passenger seat of her car, he shut her door and walked behind the vehicle. There he paused for a moment, staring down at the mistreated hat in his hand and trying to repair his frayed composure by going over what he needed to do. First thing would be to touch base with headquarters. Second would be to get the spare keys without calling attention to himself. Lucky for him that Eileen was working dispatch today. She treated him like one of her eight kids, and could be counted on to be discreet.

Then he'd take Miaka straight home. He was on patrol now, which meant no more lollygagging, no matter how much he was enjoying being in her company.

Which was a lot, dammit.

Never in his entire dating career had he had such a strong reaction to a woman as he was having now- and it wasn't just a carnal one either! What made this woman so damn special, and so different from the rest of the women he knew? How the hell had she gotten so deeply under his skin in so short a time?

And more importantly, what was he going to do about it?

* * *

Ensconced within the stuffy confines of her car, Miaka waited out the dizziness that had done nothing to curb the excitement running amuck within her.

Dante's comment about her being cute continued to replay itself in her mind, adding fuel to the feelings being with him provoked. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel his arms about her and his hard muscles beneath her hands. Thinking about it was dangerous, but only if she let go on for too long, right?

_It's only natural to feel an attraction. He's sweet and handsome and well built. And it's been a long time since I've been held so protectively…it would turn any red blooded women's head to have a man like him come to her rescue._

But even as she tried to convince herself her feelings were based in physical attraction, she knew it to be a lie. Though it was true that it had been a long time since Taka had held her in an intimate embrace, it was also true that there was no way she'd respond in that way to another male just because they happened to pay her some badly needed attention. She'd had to deal with more than a couple of charming and good looking men who'd attempted to make them themselves accessible to her in Japan in Taka's absence, and there'd been a couple who'd sought her out since she'd arrived in the States as well. Up until now, she hadn't had to think about how to keep from wanting anyone but Taka in that way- discourging them had been as natural and effortless for her as rain falling on a parade.

That was why she knew she was in dangerous territory. The forceful combination of Dante's personality, some excellent personal chemistry, and the unresolved feelings she held for Tasuki were the right ingredients to stir up a very powerful longing, one that could bring about the end for her once storied relationship by its very existence. Even if she never acted on them, the fact she had no desire to repress these feelings was enough to make her question where and with whom she belonged.

Uncomfortable with the direction her thoughts were going, she forced herself to think of something, anything, else. Reaching into her purse, she retrieved her date book, another present from Taka. Hastily she made a note to recharge her phone and began to write out a grocery list. She would have to make this morning up for Taka by fixing him one of her famous dinners that had never failed to impress even the fussiest of critics. Hopefully that and a heartfelt apology would be enough to atone for causing him needless stress.

But despite her good intentions, thoughts of Taka were scattered to the wind the moment Dante opened the car door, tossed his hat into her backseat and then eyed the position of the front seat with dismay.

She giggled, and then gave him instructions on how to adjust it to accommodate his much longer legs.

After he had slid in and shut the door, he regarded her with a smile tinged with embarrassment. "Again, I'm real sorry about this, Miaka."

"Please don't be concerned." It was thrilling to have him in her car, and she was excited to be in close proximity with him a bit longer. As realization dawned as to just how excited she felt, she bent her head and resumed work on her grocery list, concentrating harder than was necessary on her notations.

* * *

As he turned his full attention to the woman beside him, Dante stared in admiration. Her head was bent over the book in which she was writing, and her silky-looking hair kept falling in a cascade to hide her face before being pushed back by an aggravated hand. Her cheeks were flushed and she gnawed on her sexily curved lower lip as she wrote. His eyes drifted from her face to her bare knees, and then to her thighs. Desire slammed into him head on, and he forced himself to look away.

Casting about for a distraction, he found himself looking at the unopened bottle of water sitting in the console next to his arm. "Hey, shouldn't ya be drinking your water?"

"Nani?" She twitched as if touched with a cattle prod and turned her startled gaze to him. "Yes, you're right! The water… I forgot." She dropped her pen and reached for the bottle just as Dante did the same. They froze in place, his hand over hers. After what seemed like forever, the police officer finally withdrew his hand to focus on starting the car and working the clutch.

"Damn, it would have to be a _stick_." He mumbled, as the engine hesitated, coughed, and then roared to life.

"Is that a problem?" She asked, just before lifting the water bottle to her mouth.

"Not at all." He said cheerfully. "It's been awhile, but it's like riding a bike. You never forget."

Glancing at Miaka as he replied, Dante immediately wished he hadn't when he saw the tip of her tongue emerge to collect the droplets of water clinging to her lips. Tranfixed, he followed its movement as it swept the curves of her mouth.

She put the bottle in the cup holder, then turned to look at him. "Do you want some water, Dante?"

"No thanks." He answered shortly, doing his best to ignore the pleasure that filled him at the sound of her saying his name. He reached past her knee to flick on the air conditioning, and then put the car into gear with a loud grinding noise that made him a wince. "Crap."

"If you aren't used to driving a five speed, I can-"

"No you can't! I said I'll be fine!"

Miaka turned her attention to the traffic flying by her window.

"I'm sorry if I gave offense." She said quietly. "It wasn't my intention to question your ability."

Dante rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "No, I'm sorry for snapping at ya like that. It's just that…well…I'm feelin' like a total dumbass right now! It takes some kind of genius to lock his keys in his patrol car and then not even be able to drive another car in the proper way!" The smirk he gave her as she turned back to him was one she knew well and was happy to see. "Bet it makes ya feel real safe to know there's inept cops like me out there, huh?"

"You're being much too hard on yourself! Anyone could make that mistake!" She exclaimed, as she reached out and laid a gentle hand on his forearm. "And as a matter of fact, I _do_ feel much safer having you here with me."

* * *

Her words and the touch on his sleeve sent heat rocketing through Dante's body. "Well thanks. That makes me feel better."

The smile in her eyes lit up his world. "I'm glad."

Even though she removed her hand, he felt its lingering imprint on his skin. He reached out and adjusted the air conditioner vent as an excuse to avoid the woman who was looking at him with a disconcerting amount of warmth. What was uppermost in his mind now was far too tempting; if he didn't watch it, he'd end up blowing her trust in him and his profession to smithereens. "If you don't mind, I'll stop at the station first to get my keys. Then I'll take you home and leave your car there."

"But how will you get back to your car?"

"I'll call a cab to pick me up."

"All right. If you're sure..."

"I am."

He was pleased that Miaka agreed to the plan, and even more so that she'd apparently forgotten all about the waiting boyfriend in the course of the discussion. Despite the snafus and the bad news that the morning had begun with, this turn of events boded well for a lot of things.

"I think you've got the hang of it now!" She complimented, as he shifted. "That was so smooth!"

He chuckled. "Dante as Confucious says that things always go better when one does not force them."

"Words to live by." She agreed. Her glance was sly. "So do you practice what you teach?"

"Pretty much never." He admitted cheerfully. "I don't like holdin' back when it comes to makin' things happen, which can be both a plus an' a minus..." He paused. "Huh. You don't look surprised to hear that."

She grinned at him. "I'm not. You've always been that way."

"Yeah?" His glance lingered. "And just how do you know that?"

"I, uh, really don't." She replied, quickly looking out the side window. "It's a feeling I have about you, that's all."

"Are ya psychic?"

She laughed. "No!"

"Women's intuition?" He teased.

"Yes, I suppose that's what it is."

Her quick glance did not quite meet his gaze, and Dante eyed her as carefully as he could while driving. As much as he wanted to follow through with this very interesting line of questioning, this was one time when discretion was the better idea, if he could judge by the way she was clinging to the armrest and staring out the window. It gave him the impression of a butterfly resting its wings, but poised to flitter away at first opportunity.

If he was going to get her to stick around, putting her at ease was priority.

He had already decided to take the more scenic and much longer route back to the police station. Now comfortable with the rhythm of shifting gears, he began a regular conversation, and congratulated himself on his uncommon restraint as Miaka relaxed and turned towards him once again. She was genuinely interested in everything he had to say, which had him doing far more of the talking than he intended.

But even though he kept to safe topics such as the beauty of the city they were living in and its history, Dante couldn't dispel a growing certainty.

Chatting away like they'd known each other from way back was only adding to the power of attraction and his increasing need to act on it.

* * *

Taka Sukinami tapped his fingers on the top of the mahogany desk in front of him as he waited for Miaka to answer her phone. Finally, he heard a click and took a breath to speak when he heard the same recording he had been hearing all morning.

"We're sorry, but the customer you are trying to reach…"

Slamming down the receiver, Taka sighed in frustration. This explained why she hadn't returned his texts- apparently, Miaka had forgotten to charge her phone again. He had spent well over a hundred dollars on a phone that didn't function most of the time; just thinking of the waste made his stomach tight with irritation! But she deserved the best and he refused to buy her anything but. She just needed to get used to the fact that a cel phone was a necessity if she wanted to talk to him more...

Glancing at his watch, he swore under his breath. How many times had he also told Miaka that time was money? He had cleared his schedule for her this morning and now she wasn't even going to show up. The fact that he had done the same to her more than once conveniently slipped his mind as he dialed her apartment's land line, also in vain.

A soft l knock sounded on his door before it opened, revealing the face of his secretary. "Mr. Sukinami, the chair of the corporate activities committee just called and wanted to know if you are planning to attend the company fund raiser next month?"

Taka scowled as he set down the receiver. "That's well over a month away."

"They need your RSVP as soon as possible, sir. It's going to be a very high class affair and they want to make sure they have enough food and drink for everyone."

"Call them back and tell them I'll be there with a guest."

The petite, blonde-haired woman nodded and scribbled on her notepad, turning to leave the office when he stopped her. "Oh, one more thing, Sara… have you taken any other messages for me this morning?"

"No sir. Were you expecting a call?"

Glancing at the phone, Taka sighed and shook his head. "I guess not. Could you give Rhodes a buzz and tell him I'll be able to make that ten thirty meeting after all?"

"Yes sir."

Angry and a bit worried, Taka began to gather his papers for the meeting that would take place in less than an hour, a presentation he originally had intended to miss. How could Miaka be so thoughtless as to squander the time he had free to be with her? Usually he was the one being called away, but he had gone to unusually great pains to make sure that wouldn't have happened this morning...

_This must be how she feels each time I've had to cancel or stand her up. _He thought, feeling remorse replace anger. Knowing that he'd made Miaka feel even a fraction of what he was feeling now several times over made him determined to make every one of those times up to her_. _

_When I get that promotion, she'll see that all the sacrifices and disappointments are worth it. __Especially when I give her the engagement ring of her dreams. _

**To be continued…**

**Reviewers of this chapter will receive a complimentary bottle of 'Bed Head' hair gel and a Kokopelli key chain! **


	4. Chapter Four

**_Leather and Lace_**

**By: Maidens of Konan**

_Disclaimer: We do not claim to own any part of Fushigi Yugi, it is owned by Watase Yuu, Shogakukan Comics, Pierrot Studios, TV Tokyo and Pioneer! However, we do claim the rights to the past and present lives of any original characters that may appear in this story. Plagiarists will be sentenced to an eternity of being a foot masseuse for Taiits-kun._

**Chapter Four**

Dante had never been as disappointed to see a law enforcement building in his entire life as he was when his precinct station loomed into view. That feeling and a quick glance at his watch indicated that less than an hour in Miaka's company had been enough to double his determination not to let her get away.

They'd grown up on different continents. They had experienced vastly different lives. Yet it was almost eerie how quickly and easily they had established a rapport. Although it was totally clichéd thing to say that he felt he had known her his entire life, that happened to be exactly how he felt.

There were many superlatives to describe her.

Miaka Yuuki was dream come to life.

_Gotta stay cool. There's another guy. _Dante reminded himself. _Can't get too pushy, or rush her into anythin'. But I can't sit back either. I gotta have some kinda plan for this or I'll do somethin' stupid an' lose her. _

A second glance down at his watch told him that it was almost time for his break, which provided a convenient and perfect opportunity to keep Miaka with him for a while longer. No matter that he had only written one ticket so far- he would not be shirking his duties after this one aberration, even though the gig was temporary and quotas meant diddle-squat to him.

"This is really close to where I live!" Miaka exclaimed, as they pulled into the back lot used by the precinct's employees. "My apartment complex is only about four or five blocks east of here. You've probably driven right by it on patrol."

"Probably have." He replied, feigning surprise. "Small world, huh?"

Her lips curved upwards. "Yes, it certainly is."

Dante swung the LeBaron into a spot next to his own vehicle. He almost pointed it out, but then changed his mind, thinking that if his lunch plans happened to fall through and he ended up resorting to arranging a 'coincidental' meeting, he would lose the advantage of surprise if Miaka knew what kind of vehicle he drove.

"Not sure how long this will take." He told her. "But I'll keep the car running so you can have the air on."

"Thank you. It looks like it's getting hot out there."

_Not as hot as in here_, Dante thought wryly.

He started to open his door, but then his hand froze in the motion of swinging it open. Now, he thought. If he was going to ask her out it had to be right now, before he had too much time to think about what could go wrong.

"Miss Miaka?" He began, not looking at her, but feeling her inquiring gaze.

"Yes, Dante-san?"

"I was thinkin', there's this real nice coffee cafe down the road, and since you missed havin' breakfast and I have an early lunch break comin' up right now… would you like to go and get something to eat with me before I take you home?"

He held his breath, wondering if he'd pushed his luck too far and provoked a rejection, only to let it out again quickly as she didn't keep him in suspense.

"Yes! I would enjoy having lunch!" She was smiling and nodding, adding emphasis to her assertion, but then her smile faded a bit. "But I have one condition for going."

Dante gave thanks for the training that allowed him to appear calm and collected in the face of an impending set back. She hadn't answered his question before she keeled over back at the car, but considering there was a boyfriend in the mix, she probably wanted to clarify that they were going out as friends. Which kind of sucked, but he could deal with that as long as there was hope that friendship was a springboard rather than a permanent status.

"What's your condition?" He asked.

"That you will permit me to buy your lunch." She said.

He stared at her, nonplussed. "Why?"

"Because you've taken good care of me." She declared. "It would make me happy if I could do something for you."

It was like being on a Ferris wheel, Dante thought wryly. First he was down, down, down, and then suddenly he was heading back for the top.

"Dante-san? Would that be all right?"

Her eyes were unshuttered windows to her thoughts. He could see apprehension and doubt. His gaze briefly lowered to her hands, which were twisting in her lap as she waited for his reply.

She was as nervous about rejection as he was, he was sure of it. The knowledge was a jolt to his loins.

"Lady, ya got yourself a deal!" He said, then practically bolted from the car.

Given the feelings rising within him, it was the only way to keep himself from grabbing her and laying a big, wet one on those luscious lips of hers.

* * *

Miaka giggled as she watched Dante sprinting towards the back door of the precinct house. As nervous as she'd been about putting a condition on acceptance of his offer, it was immensely gratifying to see that he was happy about her agreeing to go. If he only knew how nice it was to have someone want her company like that, he wouldn't have had to worry.

If only she could tell him how happy it made her to be asked. But her smile of anticipation flatlined as guilt assailed her. She really shouldn't be happy about going to lunch with Dante when she'd stood up Taka without calling. She'd have to try once she and Dante got to the restaurant_. _Taka might be angry, but he'd understand once she'd told him what happened_. _

And Dante wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for her_. _He deserved a thank you for all the trouble she'd caused him, not to mention it was the perfect opportunity to find out more about him and how he had ended up here...

Her stomach quivered pleasantly as she contemplated the implications of the situation.

_Oh my goodness, Tasuki's reincarnation just asked me out, and I said yes! And I didn't tell him Taka and I were serious when I could have! But __Dante did know that I have a boyfriend, and asked me out anyway. He doesn't have the friendship with Taka that Tasuki had to hold him back. And let's be honest, Miaka, you don't want him to back off. This isn't just a thank you lunch when you're wondering if Dante wants to__ kiss__ you._

He had looked as if he'd wanted to, just before he'd left the car. And if he had tried...then what?

_A short, friendly peck wouldn't be out of line_, she reasoned desperately_. It's the American way. People here are always hugging and kissing each other for one reason or another, so it doesn't necessarily have to mean anything if I allow him one. If he tries to push me beyond that one, I'll say no, I don't want to complicate things and ruin a wonderful new friendship._

It was a solid and sensible plan, chock full of good intentions. It was a plan that could allow her to keep Dante a part of her life even though she was with Taka. Why not? She had stayed friends with Tasuki, hadn't she?

But there was the problem. Back when they'd first been together, she could think of Tasuki as a friend because there was no chance for becoming more. The separation between worlds would have ensured that, as had her passionate relationship with Tamahome.

But Tasuki as Dante was very much a part of her world. Her memories of his past self would make a friendship with him both a blessing and a torment. It wasn't fair to anyone if she couldn't separate past from present. The best thing to do would be to buy him lunch for old time's sake and then allow him to walk out of her life. But was it the right thing to do? Apart from the fact that finding another of her beloved seishi had been reborn as a man of her world wasn't something she could ever ignore, was knowing that her attraction to Dante was so strong as to be overwhelming. She couldn't run away from or dismiss it. Simply being held by him had had her heart rate leaping to a dangerous elevation and her mind considering possibilities that had once been unthinkable.

As if in confirmation of that admission, hidden memories of being passionately kissed by a flame-throwing bandit leapt to the forefront of her mind.

Maybe Suzaku had a hand in this, given all the times that she'd wished she'd gotten to know Tasuki better in the years since her last journey to that world. Her own story wasn't finished if she still needed to resolve certain feelings...

With that admission, she allowed her thoughts to venture further into forbidden territory. She could clearly picture Dante as her redheaded warrior, stealing her away with the intention of making her feel like a real woman. Or Dante coming to her rescue with his fire. Dante protecting her partially clad body with his own as debris rained down upon them. Dante giving her mouth to mouth next to a secluded forest pond...

Enmeshed in spinning out her newly erotic fantasies, Miaka failed to notice that her companion was approaching the car.

When the driver's door was yanked open and he slid into the seat next to her, she jumped and let out a shriek.

"It's all right!" He exclaimed, eyeing her with concern. "It's only me!"

She blinked at him, face reddening, and hands held over her racing heart. "Oh! I didn't realize you would be back this soon."

His smirk was pure Tasuki. "I'm fast when it counts."

Her laugh was on the breathy side, and her clasped hands lowered to her lap. "It's my own fault for getting caught up in daydreaming."

"Yeah, I could tell you were miles away." Dante observed, as he put on his sunglasses, started the car and shifted it into reverse. "We're gonna have to do something about that attention span of yours. It could get you into trouble."

"It already has," she confessed ruefully. "Especially when I was younger."

Dante laughed. "I bet! You must have had a tough time in school if ya spaced out like that in class!"

"I did get in trouble for not paying attention." She confirmed. A streak of mischief suddenly reared its head and she added, "But in my defense, I read an article in the American Journal of Psychology that said having the ability to fantasize is absolutely essential to adult humans achieving full gratification in their love-"

She broke off as the car lurched violently.

Dante swore under his breath as the engine died.

"What happened?" She dared to ask, trying not to smile at his flustered expression.

"I popped the damn clutch!"

Miaka felt a very feminine elation as she watched Dante re-start and shift the car into drive with a bit too much force. It was heady seeing proof that she had a significant effect on him, although she also was surprised at how much of a reaction she had gotten. From what she had witnessed in the social scene, American women were much more forward with their men friends. She would have thought Dante would have gotten and been used to hearing remarks of that nature.

In retrospect, maybe she should have refrained. It was too late to take it back. All she could do now was wait to see if and how he would respond to her risqué comment. She had a strong suspicion that he would, even if he had been taken off guard. Just like Tasuki, this man didn't seem like he'd let anyone get the best of him, physically _or_ verbally.

As soon as he had gotten them safely out of the parking lot, Dante confirmed her theory.

"So what goes on in those daydreams of yours?" He inquired, with a suspiciously innocent look. "Must be some pretty interesting and _gratifying_ ones to grab your attention like that."

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "A lot of things that I'm sure a guy wouldn't care to hear about."

"Try me."

"They're mostly about girl type things."

"What kind of girl type things?"

Miaka hesitated, torn between shyness and exasperation. Clearly, Dante wasn't going to let her off the hook until she'd given some kind of confession!

_All right Officer Curious.… just remember you asked for it! _"Well, most of the time they involve…um… putting myself in highly romantic situations." She said.

To her surprise, Dante didn't laugh or tease. "Like a romance novel?"

"Sort of. " Despite her efforts to remain cool and composed, she could feel the rising sting of a blush. "Or a movie."

"Got any examples you wouldn't mind sharing?" He asked.

She looked at him askance. "You don't really want to hear about my being Julia Roberts in one of her...oh, what's that phrase.."

"'Chick flicks'?" Dante suggested.

"That's it!" She nodded.

"I happen to like Julia Roberts' movies." He challenged. "They help me understand how women think about relationships."

She rose to the bait. "They're not always like that. One of my favorites is a throwback involving a secret mountain hideout and my being kidnapped and carried away to it by a fiery, woman-hating bandit."

"You're the damsel in distress in danger of being ravished?" Dante asked, looking intrigued.

She fidgeted under his watchful glance. "Yes."

"I understand why the set up is romantic. But why would ya want to be swept off your feet by a hot-tempered hillbilly thief who hates females?"

Miaka bit back a laugh. This was a very improper conversation to be having, but it was also fun.

"Well...because I'd be the only woman in the world he _doesn't_ hate, and he'd turn out to be a chivalrous hero with a heart of gold...with sex appeal to die for."

"So he's a diamond in the rough? James Dean with a dash of Prince Charming?" Dante asked. "I mean, James Dean was an actor in the Fifties who excelled in playing-"

"Rebels with a cause! " She finished, and then laughed at his surprise. "I love old movies. And I would say that combination is a good way describe my mountain bandit, except, perhaps, for his not being as clean cut as Charming or as broody as Dean."

"I see. And since he oozes sex appeal, he'd also be the world's greatest lover I suppose?"

"Naturally!" She retorted, refusing to let raised eyebrows and a knowing smirk fluster her. "But the best thing about him is that he cares about my feelings and wants me the way I am, in spite of all my flaws and foibles…"

Her voice drifted off on a wistful sigh.

"Sounds to me like you wish this guy was real."

"He was." Miaka gave another involuntary sigh, too wrapped up in memories to notice that her companion's smile had just straight lined. "A long time ago I knew a guy just like that."

"So what happened?"

"When I met him, I already had a boyfriend and was too caught up in the rapture of that first love to even consider that he might have been the right one for me."

Dante's gaze was sharp, but his voice was gentle as he asked, "Wouldn't happen to be the guy I reminded you of, would it?"

"Well, yes." Her cheeks grew even hotter under his scrutiny. "But that's all in the past now. Do all American men think so much about romance?"

Dante sounded amused, but otherwise made no comment on her clumsy attempt to deflect his questioning. "Can't speak for all of 'em, but I'd guess most don't wanna be thinkin' about it. Most just go out and chase after it."

A surge of pique made her bold. "And have _you_?"

"From time to time." He confirmed, then added quickly, "but never found anything that lasted past the initial thrill."

She wondered if that meant he wasn't interested in making a commitment, then told herself that information didn't matter when she had Taka. "I'm sorry to hear that things didn't go well."

"There's no need to be sorry." An engimatic smile was playing around his lips. "I'm very glad that I can say to you that I'm not attached to anyone."

She wasn't sure what he meant. Was Dante implying something regarding her status, or was he declaring himself a confirmed bachelor?

"We're here!" He announced, interrupting her train of thought as he turned the car from busy Union Street into the parking lot of a small and nicely landscaped strip mall.

Miaka waited until he had pulled into a space and switched off the ignition before blurting out the question her inner demons were prodding her to ask.

"I know that you're a man of action and reality, but haven't you tried to imagine or even had a dream about the person who is meant for you?"

She expected a brush off of the question, but got silence instead as Dante went perfectly still while in the process of switching off the engine. After a few seconds, the hand holding the keys pulled them slowly from the ignition and dropped into his lap, where he stared down at it with an air that indicated that he was giving very careful consideration to what she'd just said.

At last he looked up, and Miaka once again wished she could see beyond his sunglasses.

"It's funny that you'd ask me that particular question." He said seriously. "I've actually had several dreams along those lines in the last few weeks."

She sucked in a breath, unsure if this was good news. "The woman of your dreams?"

He smiled. "Yeah. But my gut feelin' is that she's for real."

**To be continued!**

**Reviewers will receive a VHS copy of 'Rebel Without a Cause' and a can of Tasuki whup-ass! **


	5. Chapter Five

**Leather and Lace **

**By: Maidens of Konan **

_This is a non profit fanfic based on Fushigi Yûgi, which is the property of Watase Yuu, Shogakukan Comics, Pierrot Studios, TV Tokyo, Viz and Pioneer. The original, non canon ideas and characters that may appear in this story belong to the author. Plagiarizing this fic will result in plagiarist getting visit from Angry Suboshi and his Yo-Yos of Bad Judgement._

**Chapter Five**

Miaka watched her companion open his door and climb out of the car. Ripples of excitement coursed through her body at the same time her mind was struggling to achieve calm.

_It's dangerous to be making assumptions that his dreams are related to me. If he remembered anything specifically about me, he would have said something. I'm sure of that._

But wasn't it possible that he was subconsciously being influenced by a link to his past life? In sleep, the barriers between the two might have been lowered enough that he might have dreamed of their past adventures together...but not with enough clarity that there'd be recognition of that life when he was awake.

_There's no reason for him to be dreaming about me. _She argued with herself_. Tasuki and I weren't like Tamahome and me. And now, in this world, there have to be plenty of other women that could fill the role of 'dream girl'! _

The thought of another woman taking her place at his side brought on sudden, shocking ache that felt like an arrow to her heart. But she gamely put the sensation aside as her door was opened and a hand was extended to her.

She placed hers within it, noting that it was hard, long-fingered and broad across the palm.

A warrior's hand, offered with chivalrous intent.

It was so nice to be treated with attentiveness and courtesy.

_I can't let it go to my head. He must behave this way with any woman he takes out! _

While Dante helped her out of the car, she carefully avoided his eyes to hide the unreasonable jealousy she knew was showing in hers. When she was standing next to him, he kept possession of her hand, a gesture that both pleased and flustered her.

"Are you feelin' okay now, Miss Miaka? Has the dizziness gone?"

The warm press of his hand and the genuine concern in his voice soothed her. She chanced a peek up at him.

"I'm feeling much better. The water helped."

A narrowed gaze assessed her. "All right, that's good. But I think getting a little food inside ya will help too."

The fact that she'd hadn't noticed that she _was_ hungry was more than a little disconcerting. "Yes, I think it will."

Dante gently relinquished her hand so he could shut and lock her door, then took her arm in a polite but protective grasp as she moved past him and stepped up on the curb. It was nice to have that support, even if it did things to her pulse. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." He said easily.

"You have excellent manners, Dante-san. I can't remember the last time a man helped me out of a car."

She gave him a bright smile with the compliment, then quickly averted her gaze from the speculative glint in his.

"Sounds like you've been hangin' around the wrong guys."

The statement was provocative, but his expression and tone of voice were absolutely deadpan. Was he teasing or serious? She had to say something! Her extended silence could make things even more awkward.

"Anyway, thanks for the compliment, " Dante went on, as if sensing her internal debate. "But to be fair, I hafta say the credit for my havin' manners all goes to my mama and five older sisters."

_"Five_ older sisters?" She grabbed onto the piece of information like a lifeline. "You're the youngest?"

"Yeah." He grimaced playfully. "Most people think I was spoiled rotten bein' the only male in the brood, but they're dead wrong. Not a day went by where least one of 'em wasn't on my case about actin' insensitive or not bein' a gentleman! Talk about a royal pain in the behind!"

Miaka broke into a grin, picturing a young Dante surrounded by nagging women. "I'm sure they meant well."

"Or not!" He retorted.

"There must have been some advantages to being the only brother!"

"Not a one." He asserted easily. "Let's go inside, and I'll tell ya all about the trials and tribulations of growin' up in Georgia with a brood of Southern belles." Making a show of fanning himself, he thickened his native accent and spoke in a high pitched voice. "Oh Dahntay! Get your backside into the kitchen and get us some of that divine sweet tea! It's hotter'n devil's spit out heah!"

Miaka laughed. "I didn't realize you had such a strong accent."

He smirked. "I've toned it down for the locals. The hair is enough of a distraction as it is. With the accent, I never know if they're listening to what I'm sayin' or trying to figure out where I'm from."

"I know what that's like." She told him with a rueful smile.

Putting her palms together, she executed an exaggeratedly formal bow as she playfully emphasized her own accent.

"Please to lead the way, most honorable Dante-san! Sweet Tea sounds most delightful."

He looked amused and a bit sheepish. "That's right, you're not exactly from around these parts either, are ya?"

"I'm originally from Tokyo, Japan." She stated proudly.

Dante shook his head as they began to walk the stretch of asphalt that lay between them and the coffeehouse's entrance. "Here I'm makin' like I'm sucha long ways from home, and y'all came here from halfway around the world!"

Miaka grinned. "No matter the distance, leaving one's childhood home is always difficult." She replied, taking the arm he offered. "It was a big adjustment, but I'm finally getting to feel pretty comfortable. It helps a lot that I have friends and co-workers that are patient in answering my questions and correcting my english."

"Ever get homesick?" Dante asked.

"Sometimes." She glanced up to meet his look of sympathy. "But thanks to my job, getting to know new people and improving my english, it's been happening less and less. I've made some very good friends, and I feel safe here." She gestured toward the horizon and the looming mountains. "How could I not, with those beauties standing guard over me?"

His face lit up. "That's exactly how I feel about 'em!"

They smiled at each other, but the shared moment was cut short as they arrived at a door with a coffee pot logo and cursive gold lettering which Miaka read aloud.

"Welcome To Brew You! Java With A Bite!" She giggled. "That's so cute! But I'm not sure if I'm being welcomed or warned!"

Dante's smile broadened as he pulled the door open for her. "I think you're gonna like it. For me, it's a great place to unwind...and the owner happens t'be an old an' very good friend of mine."

* * *

Miaka entered the building with Dante close behind her. The smell of freshly roasted coffee and baked bread had her salivating as her eyes adjusted to the darker interior of the coffeehouse.

She looked around with growing delight. The open rectangular space had been transformed to look like a small mountain lodge, complete with tongue and groove paneling, and the requisite stuffed critters and fish displayed on its walls. Large, leather armchairs were randomly arranged around log tables and pine plank coffee tables. Only a couple of the chairs were occupied, as it was well before the lunchtime rush.

"It looks like we're inside a log cabin!" She said, turning back to Dante for a moment.

"That's the idea! Go check it out!"

She did just that, meandering around, happily taking in the rest of her surroundings.

"The restrooms are back there, past the kitchen." Dante said, pointing to an alcove behind the long, polished wooden counter that ran along the wall opposite the entrance.

She took note of the location of the ladies' room, then moved on to the beverage and lunch menus that were posted on black slate chalkboards on the wall to the left side of the alcove. Their old fashioned, personalized look softened the ultra-modern appearance of gleaming chrome of the coffee grinders, espresso machines and other apparatus that were lined up beneath them.

She was a bit surprised to see that there wasn't anyone standing behind the counter waiting for customers, but that didn't seem to faze Dante.

"The crew times their break for before the lunch crowd hits. The regular cook's taken a week's leave of absence, so Craig is in the back doin' the food." He explained, after she'd asked about it. "Why don't we find a spot to sit, and then I'll go scare him up t'take our order."

"Would it be okay if we sit towards the back?" She indicated the space near a fieldstone fireplace that took up the majority of the back wall, along with a recess that held shelves full of books, magazines and assorted games.

Dante voiced his approval but then, to her surprise, steered her straight towards a lone, rather shabby looking sofa that was planted directly in front of the fireplace hearth. Seeing her eyes dart toward the chairs nearby, he said quickly, "Trust me, Miaka. Once you've sat on this monster, ya won't want to sit anywhere else."

He let go of her arm and watched closely while she gingerly seated herself, and then grinned at her gasp of amazement as her derriere sank deeply into the delicious softness of supple brown leather.

"So? What do ya think?" He prompted, putting his hands on his hips.

She leaned back with a sigh of pleasure as she was surrounded by cushiony comfort, and looked up at him with half closed eyes. "I love it. I may never move again."

"Told ya!" He gloated. "You stay put, I'll be right back."

She sighed in contentment. "Thank you."

"Just don't fall asleep before I get back, okay?"

"Mmmmkay..."

Normally she would have been embarrassed to sound like she was purring, but sheer bliss overruled convention. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this pampered. How wonderful it was to have someone coddle her, if only for a short while. As Dante walked away, she allowed herself the luxury of sinking even more deeply into the confines of the sofa, eyes closed. She felt relaxed and supremely content. It was as if the bout of altitude sickness had never been...

Her moment of total relaxation was brought to an abrupt end at hearing the gravelly voice calling out to Dante. After a moment of blinking in disbelief, she bolted upright and looked over the back of the sofa to where Dante and a dark- haired, deeply tanned man were performing a strange, ritualistic handshake that involved the slapping of palms, tapping of knuckles and wiggling of fingers.

"Tager! How's life been treatin' ya?"

"Can't complain, except it's been too long since I've seen your ugly mug!"

"Hey, it was here when you were yesterday! You didn't see me? That's cold, man!"

Dante's cohort was wearing tight jeans and a half unbuttoned white shirt. A wide bandana was tied around his head to hold back a tousled mass of blue/black hair and Miaka caught the glint of a diamond stud in his ear. Her eyes took in a ruggedly handsome face, making specific note of eyes that sparkled with mischief and the wide, white grin that stretched lean cheeks, one of which bore a familiar looking scar.

After a moment of staring in stunned incredulity, Miaka faced the other way and sank back against the couch, her heart pounding from the shock of seeing yet another face from her past.

If Dante had been Tasuki, she was certain that his good friend would have been Kouji.

_I shouldn't be surprised that it's him. But what in the world is going on? What could have happened that they both ended up here? I know time passes differently in the two worlds, but Tasuki and Kouji still would have been in their prime! They should be living in the book..._

A sick feeling washed over her at the new and disturbing realization that two lives would have ended prematurely, and there was no way to ask what happened.

Feeling tears threaten, she quickly tuned back into the conversation taking place behind her just in time to hear the Kouji look-alike ask teasingly,

"Okay, Tager, I am hallicinatin', or did I see you come in with a woman?"

"Yeah, there's someone with me." Dante sounded wary, and Miaka wondered why.

Craig let out a hoot. "Thank you, Sweet Jesus! I was thinkin' you'd never get over that Sandra chick!"

_Who is Sandra?_ Miaka thought, with a frown.

"Don't be givin' me crap!" Dante retorted. "I just met her. She's dealin' with a spell of altitude sickness. I'm helpin' her out by driving her home."

Miaka stiffened. What he said was true, but was that all this was to him?

"But you brought her to your ole buddy Craig for a little TLC first, hmmm?"

"An' I'll take her somewhere else if you're gonna make a big deal out of it!" Dante shot back. "Not that it's any of your business, but the lady's already got a boyfriend."

"I notice that didn't stop you from askin' her to lunch."

Miaka smiled. She was beginning to like Dante's friend on his own merits.

"So what if I did? You know damn well that I've been immunized to women!"

"Rrrrriiiiight." Craig said, skepticism rife in his gravelly voice.

_Really_. Miaka thought, echoing that skepticism. _That's not the impression I have of you, Officer Tager._

"Ya know, Bennett, Annie's Coffee Cage is startin' to look pretty good."

"Fine, fine, I'll lay off. Are ya gonna introduce me now?"

"Do I got a choice?"

"Not if ya want me to leave ya alone."

"All right, then. C'mon."

When the two men rounded the end of the couch, Miaka sat forward and tried to look as if she hadn't heard everything that had been said.

"Miaka, I'd like ya to meet the proprietor of this fine establishment and my best friend, Craig Bennett. Craig, this is Miaka Yuuki."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bennett." She smiled and extended her hand, although she half-expected him to reach out and rap her on the head instead.

"The name's Craig- and likewise!" The Kouji look-alike said, taking her hand and shaking it with warmth. As a stunning blue-green gaze perused her from head to toe, a puzzled look replaced his smile.

"Do I pass inspection?" She joked, after several more seconds of staring had gone by.

The proprietor's sun-bronzed cheeks darkened with embarrassment as he finally let go of her hand. Behind him, Dante gave a soft snort of amusement. "Of course ya do! And I'm real sorry for gawkin' like that. I know this is going to sound like a real tired old line, but I'm sure that we've met before!"

Dante gave him a frown. "Must have been somewhere else, 'cause she's never been in here."

"That's what I'm trying to remember." Craig admitted, still eyeing his newest customer. "It's strange I can't, because I never forget a face."

Miaka's mind was abuzz. Did Craig Bennett have a fragment of memory of her time in the book? If so, she needed to be very careful.

"Maybe we've seen each other at the place I work. " She suggested. "I'm doing food preparation at The Phoenix Grill. Have you ever eaten there?"

"Yeah, about a year ago."

"Oh, then never mind. I started working there just a little over five months ago."

"I see." Craig rubbed the back of his head as he thought. "Well, if you're at the Phoenix, then yer picture and the announcement were in the lifestyle section of the paper when they hired you, right? And I would have seen it, because I'm always checkin' out the new-"

Dante broke in. "You're the chef at the Phoenix Grill, Miaka?"

"Yes, but not the head chef." She corrected sweetly. "I'm his assistant in training."

"A beautiful woman training to be a head chef!" Craig said, with a mischievous sideways glance at Dante. "A single guy's dream come true."

She blushed and laughed. "Thank you, Mr. Bennett. You're very kind."

"I told ya, the name's Craig! And I'm tellin' it like it is!"

"Well, thank you again. And please call me Miaka."

"I'd be honored."

Dante frowned as his best friend and his guest exchanged warm smiles. "Hey buddy, don't you have some coffee to grind or somethin'?"

Craig shot him an unrepentant look. "Thought I'd take the lady's order first. I'm the only one workin' the kitchen right now, remember?"

"So get to it! I can't be hangin' around this dump all day!"

"Yeah, about that." Craig eyed the uniform his friend was wearing. "What gives? I've never seen ya in that kinda get up be-"

He broke off as Dante gave him a sharp look. "No shop talk right now, I'm on break."

The other man stared back and then gave an affirmative jerk of the head. "I gotcha. Later."

Though the words were offhand, there was a tension in the air that made Miaka decide to change the subject.

"Dante-san, you know this place well. Would you mind ordering for me?"

"Be glad to." He said. "How hungry are ya?"

She made a face. "Ravenous, actually."

"Anything you know you won't like?"

"No. Everything on the menu looked wonderful." She smiled. "I love food and trying new things!"

Dante nodded. Now that his sunglasses were gone, there was no disguising the lingering glance directed at the bodice of her sundress as she stretched out an arm, or the avid way his eyes followed the movement as she crossed her legs.

"So does my buddy." Craig said, sending an appreciative grin at the reclining woman on the sofa. "It's nice t' meet a woman who isn't shy about food! Feel free to come back anytime...with or without this big lug."

Craig's words and the look he gave her were full of open, honest approval. Pleased that she had made a positive impression, Miaka looked askance at Dante to see if he'd also noticed and was glad. But Dante seemed to suddenly be very interested in what was happening outside one of the shop's windows.

Well, he was a cop, she reminded herself at feeling the prickle of disappointment. Even when on lunch break he certainly needed to stay vigilant.

"The pleasure is mine, Craig-san." She said, making her reply extra enthusiastic to counter any hint of lingering disappointment. "If the coffee is even half as nice as the company, I 'll be coming back here often!"

Dante turned to face her. Whatever he'd been looking at was apparently no longer of interest.

Craig grinned and elbowed his buddy. "Hear that, Tager? A new regular! She's mine now, I've won her over."

"Or she was just bein' polite." Dante drawled.

"She must be, since she said yes to havin' lunch with you." His friend retorted. He then turned to Miaka with his most charming smile. "Dante told me you've been havin' trouble with the altitude woozies. I was sorry to hear that."

"It's my own fault." She said ruefully. "I allowed myself to get dehydrated."

"Well I'd say that means you need a beverage, pronto! I'll be right back with somethin' special for ya."

"You pour and I'll bring it to her," Dante stated, his gaze now intent on Miaka. "You're gonna be busy in the kitchen gettin' our order ready, right?"

Though the redhead's expression was bland, his tone was the equivalent of pounding a no poaching sign into the ground.

"Right." Craig said, trying not to grin. _Immunized to women, my ass! He's got it bad for this one! _ "I guess I could use some help."

* * *

As soon the two men had walked away, Miaka subsided back into the sofa and pondered the situation. She could understand his caution regarding her status, but if Dante didn't want to let a woman into his private life, then why would he take her to lunch at a place that was owned by a dear friend?

And was up with that look he'd given her just now? He didn't seem angry, but he definitely wasn't pleased. Did he resent her wanting to spend time in his home away from home?

In the next few minutes, as her thoughts continued to revolve around the flame-haired officer, Miaka came to realize one truth.

Right now, right here at this moment in time, nothing seemed more important than proving to Officer Dante Tager that he wasn't immune to _her_.

* * *

Miaka cast a casual glance at her watch and was shocked to see that over an hour had passed since they had arrived at Brew You. Dante probably should have been back on the job by now, but when she shyly mentioned that fact to him he didn't seem troubled in the least.

"I arranged for flex time," he informed her as they walked to her car. "I was an extra patrol today, and they're fine with my making the down time up at the end of my shift."

"Were they worried about the car?"

"Nah. I told dispatch where it was and that I was goin' to lunch first when I went in and got the keys."

"I hope there's nothing major that they needed your help."

He patted his side, where a sophisticated looking beeper hung from his belt. "If there had been an emergency, the dispatcher would have texted me."

She smiled up at him, feeling giddy that he'd made such arrangements just to stay with her. "That was a very nice thing for you to do."

Dante glanced down at her as they arrived at her car.

"Again with that 'nice' stuff," He mocked gently. "I told ya, nice has nothin' to do with it."

Before she could reply, he leaned forward to unlock and open the passenger's door for her, letting out an exaggerated groan as he did so."That damn Bennett and his double sized portions! It hurts to bend, I'm so stuffed!"

"Me too!" Miaka agreed laughingly, although privately she thought she could have found room for one more dessert. "Your friend Craig is an excellent cook. I need to get his recipe for those biscuits!"

"It's my grandma's secret recipe." Dante said as she seated herself in the car. "I'll be glad to write it down for ya if you wanna give it a try."

She smiled up at him. "That'd be wonderful, if it's not too much trouble!"

"No trouble!" He assured her. "It can be my thanks for you buyin' lunch!"

As much as she wanted the recipe, she didn't like that he was speaking in terms of obligation. "That's not necessary. The point was that I wanted to be doing something nice for you."

"And ya did." Dante said. "I've been havin' a great time."

The warmth in his eyes was her undoing.

"Me too." She blurted. "If you'd entrust your grandmother's recipe to me, I'd really enjoy preparing it for you... at your convenience, of course."

The offer was cheeky and impulsive, but she didn't care. She'd had a lovely time, the best she could remember since her arrival in this country. Even with reincarnation and relationship issues hanging over her head, she wanted to see Dante again, and to spend more time getting to know him.

She also wanted to laugh at his comically stunned expression, but the urge died when he recovered enough to reply,

"Hold that thought. I'm comin' around."

After shutting her door, he jogged around the back of the car and got in beside her.

When he turned to her, their gazes locked and Miaka felt her heart do a little flip-flop as he reached out for one of her hands. She didn't even think of resisting as Dante entwined his fingers with hers, or when he slowly brought the back of her hand to his mouth. Her breath caught at the sight and sensation of smooth, warm lips leaving an imprint on her flesh, and then released in a soft whoosh of air.

At that moment it felt as if everything going on outside the car had faded away, leaving the two them of wrapped in a soft, silent cocoon that seemed to pulse with heat and taut expectation.

_But what am I expecting?_ _He knows I'm seeing someone. I haven't thought this through. _

With that, she regained her sense of perspective. "Dante-san, I'm sorry. I really shouldn't-"

"Yes you should." He commanded. "Stop jumpin' to conclusions, and while you're at it, quit making me sound like a stranger. It's just Dante. Okay?"

She was shamelessly enjoying the tender way his thumb was stroking her knuckles. "Okay...Dante."

"That's better." He looked down at their clasped hands. "I'd like nothing better than to have a meal cooked by you, but there's somethin' I absolutely have to know before I say yes."

She was worried, but couldn't think of a reason to put it off. "All right."

"How serious are ya about this guy you were meeting today?"

It was the same thing he'd asked her earlier, a very valid and critical question, one she had been asking herself since she had arrived in Colorado. There was a time long ago when the answer would have been 'very'. But these days, she wondered if what she had was a habit and a crutch rather than a relationship.

"I…really don't know." She admitted.

Dante's head shot up at her response, and his eyes pinned hers with disconcerting intensity.

"How can you not_ know_?" He demanded. "What kind of lame answer is that?"

His accent had thickened with frustration and a hint of anger. Miaka felt her own temper flaring in response. What did he expect? It wasn't like she had any advance preparation for this situation! "All right, how's this?" She retorted. "I was serious enough about him to learn English, give up a good job and being with my family and friends in Japan so I could move here to be with him! Is that a satisfactory answer?"

She tried to tug her hand free, but Dante tightened his grip on it.

"That was months ago." He persisted quietly. "I wanna know how ya feel about him _now_."

Her defensiveness ebbed under the effect of his intense gaze and softened tone. "The reason I'm not certain how things stand between us is because we've been apart much more than we've been together since I arrived, and were completely separated for the months before I moved here. We haven't had a chance to sit down and discuss where our relationship stands."

Dante blew out a breath. "So that's why you were in such an all-fired hurry this mornin'," he stated, finally letting her hand slip out of his. "You wanted to make the most of the time he was going to give you."

"That's right." Miaka murmured. And she should be feeling a great deal of remorse about missing that date, but at that moment she was far more disappointed that Dante had relinquished her hand.

Her desire to be with the man beside her was increasing, consuming her better judgement, bit by bit. There was nothing to be done about it but to try to hide what she was sure was a revealing expression by turning to look out the side window- an effort that was quickly stymied by warm fingers curling around her chin.

Exerting pressure, but not enough to hurt her, Dante turned her face to his.

It came as no surprise that he would use the same maneuver Tasuki had when she and the bandit had first met; the only difference was that Tasuki had done it because he'd been trying to steal a kiss from her. That kiss had never come to pass thanks to her instinctive right jab, which she could now admit had been an error in judgment. But how could she have known that the bandit that she'd rejected that night would prove himself an amazingly selfless and incredibly faithful companion, as well as a hero?

"When's the last time this boyfriend of yours took you out on a date instead of doin' what he wants and having you forgive him?"

That was something Tasuki had complained about too. It annoyed her as much now as it had then, partly because it wasn't as cut and dried as that, but mainly because she knew, deep down, that he was right. "Why should I tell you?"

"Because I asked." Dante said.

Despite her irritation, her lips twitched at the simple logic of his answer. "You're awfully sure of yourself, considering we just met this morning."

His laugh was short and sharp. "I'm not sure of anythin'!"

She couldn't stop herself. "But that doesn't matter if you're only trying to help me, right?"

He snorted. "We both know that's not all that's going on!"

She was mollified, but not ready to show it. "Then what is?"

"How do I know unless you let me find out?" Dante said. "Look, I'm not the kind of guy who would use my badge to pick up women and I've never acted this unprofessionally while on duty! But suddenly I meet you, and I'm totally outta line, and I don't fucking care!" He shook his head, looking bewildered and a little peeved that he was bewildered. "All that matters is that I can tell you're not happy, an' that I wanna be the one to change that!"

Heat and energy flowed through her body as she listened to him. She wanted to commit everything about this moment to memory even as an inner voice shouted that she should end the lunacy now, that her present state of affairs dictated that a platonic friendship was all she should offer this man.

This was the voice of reason that she had obeyed every single time it had spoken to her in the past. But after enduring six months of loneliness, uncertainty and unhappiness in a place full of strangers, Miaka was no longer in a mood to listen, much less to obey.

"He hasn't taken me on a date in over three months." She confessed.

* * *

"You gotta be kidding me!" Dante exclaimed.

She shook her head. "Not kidding."

"What kinda loser boyfriend doesn't take his girl out? Is he cheap or somethin'?"

* * *

The minute he asked the question, Dante cursed himself for his tactlessness. She'd have every right to resent his offering an unsolicited, low opinion of her beau.

But for some reason, Miaka looked as if she wanted to giggle.

"He can be a bit...um... frugal." She said, her voice holding on to a hint of laughter. "But it's not that he won't spend money on me, just that there's been no time for it. When he's free, I'm either working, or there's been some corporate function of his that we need to attend. And then he has to travel to meet with prospective and current investors..." Her tone had gone flat. "He has goals, and I don't want to get in his way."

Tipping her chin up a little more, Dante vowed to himself that he'd never, ever make the mistakes with her that had caused the disillusionment and disappointment he could see in her eyes.

If he was lucky enough to be let into her life to keep that vow.

There was only one way to find out.

Taking a deep breath, he plunged ahead into the unknown.

"All right. You're not engaged or even goin' out on regular dates with this guy, so I have no qualms about sayin' that I can do better." He said. "I'd like a chance to take you out on a real date. If you're not interested in giving me that chance, just say so right now and I swear that'll be th' end of it."

He paused, feeling as if he'd was hanging in mid air after jumping off a cliff.

Miaka was regarding him with a mixture of wariness and warmth, but her long hesitation before answering spoke of conflict.

"I'm interested." She said slowly. "I want to spend more time with you. But I don't want to make false promises. Things are complicated. There's so much you don't know about me-"

He silenced her by placing a thumb over her lips.

"I've never been one to play it safe." He told her. "Why should I start now?"

* * *

_Why indeed. _Miaka thought.

Looking into Dante's eyes reduced her iron will to the state of malleable putty.

Her lips tingled where his thumb rested. She wondered what would happen if she parted them.

Before she could find out, flashing lights captured their attention.

"Trouble?" She asked, seeing his eyes dart to the display on his phone, and then to the patrol car parked down the block.

As they watched, the lights were turned off and the car pulled away.

"They're just pulling out after a routine stop. But I better get back on patrol." Dante said. "With flex time, my shift is up at six. Can I call ya after work?"

"That would be fine." Her voice was steady, but her hands were trembling as she adjusted her skirt to fully cover her legs. "Would you like me to write down my number for you?"

"Won't be necessary." His eyes were intent upon her as she looked up. "I memorized it, remember?"

"Really?" She was flattered, but her tone was skeptical. "It's been a while since you saw it."

Holding her gaze, he rattled off the number without hesitation.

"Wow. That's... exactly right."

He said nothing, but his smile said plenty.

As a blush stung her cheeks, Miaka turned to stare out her side window. She was acutely conscious of his perusal, but was feeling too nervous to return it.

When Dante shifted his attention to starting the car, she glanced his way, feeling both relieved and apprehensive at having made the choice to go out with him. She had no idea what that meant for her future, or what she was getting into.

But whatever the consequences would be, she couldn't stop now.

* * *

Once they had pulled out into traffic, they began to talk about trivial things. Though the conversation flowed, it held a poor imitation of the relaxed camaraderie they'd enjoyed during lunch. An unspoken, mutual agreement to ignore the sexual tension simmering between them had seemingly been forged, but shoving that awareness aside only served to make it more persistent and pervasive.

While Dante was watching the road, Miaka found herself studying his profile and shoulders.

And then as he shifted, his biceps.

And at last, his hands.

The memory of having those strong and capable hands on her person was an intoxicating one, and a provocation to push beyond her misgivings.

Possessed by a sense of daring, she moved her leg as close to the gearshift as possible and waited with breathless anticipation for incidental contact.

* * *

As he shifted back into fifth gear, Dante felt his forearm come up against Miaka's leg.

Unable to resist, he glanced down, and promptly bit off a groan at seeing her bare knee so close to his clenched hand.

His companion kept chatting away, seemingly oblivious to the situation.

Or was she? He had the distinct feeling that Miaka was purposely trying to get a rise out of him- and damn if it wasn't working! Every time he shifted and touched, a rush of blood moved down to his groin. He hunched forward in his seat, the only way to hide the evidence of growing arousal as he tried his best to keep his eyes on the road, permitting himself only the briefest glances while clamping down on errant imagining as to what that thigh would feel like slung over his hip.

By the time they pulled into the apartment complex's parking lot, he was gripping the gearshift with whitened knuckles as he battled with his baser urges.

He might have felt better knowing that Miaka was fighting her own battle. Though her teasing had clearly gotten the desired results, her own body's reaction to it had forced her into the acknowledgment that she wanted so much more than hot, furtive glances from this man.

She wanted to touch him and be touched by him in ways she'd never fully dared to contemplate in a fantasy.

* * *

The second he had the car parked and the engine switched off, Dante flung his door open and quickly clambered out. If he could just get Miaka into the building and make the call for a cab without any kind of unnecessary contact, there was a better than good chance he could maintain his self-control. If not…well, he just wouldn't let himself think about that possibility while he was on duty and the lady had a boyfriend when he wasn't.

He rounded the car and opened her door.

"I live on the top floor- over there, on the end." She pointed to an outdoor stairway at the end of the building nearest them, as she alighted from the vehicle. "Oops!" She bent down to pick up her purse and the small bit of change that had spilled out on the asphalt.

Dante would have helped, but he was transfixed by the unfettered view of the smooth valley between beautifully rounded breasts.

As reason returned, he clenched his jaw and directed his gaze elsewhere.

_Hands off! Gotta get back to work! The boss is already gonna have a fit when he finds I left a police vehicle sittin' on the freeway… a nooner is totally outta the question! _

Miaka took the arm he proffered with a sweet smile, and he tried to ignore the alluring way her hip brushed against his from time to time as they walked. When they reached the stairway, he hung back and let her go first, but soon regretted the courtesy as a slight gust of wind lifted the back of her full skirt and he was treated to a riveting display of calves and thighs. He also couldn't help eyeing the curves of the delectable bottom that was outlined quite nicely when she gathered her skirt in one hand to hold it in place.

After three and a half flights of pure torture, they reached her apartment. Dante looked on in silence while his tormentress unlocked the door. Instead of opening it and walking in, she turned to him.

"I'm feeling so much better! There's no need for you to have to pay for a cab when I am feeling perfectly capable of giving you a ride!"

Dante managed a bland smile even as he clamped down hard on thoughts of giving Miaka the ride of _her_ life. "I appreciate that, but I think you should be gettin' some rest after that spell ya had. I have cash- and it looks better for me to take a taxi than havin' a civilian drop me off anyway."

"I never thought of that." She murmured. It wasn't a point she could argue, and she was unable to conceal her disappointment. "Please come in then, and I'll get the phone for you."

Dante acknowledged the directive with a brief nod, giving no sign of his excitement over the certainty that she was looking for an excuse to keep him around_._

He followed her into the apartment, taking careful note of the stone fireplace and the expensive furnishings that were within his range of view.

_Chefs must make good money_, he thought idly, tagging along behind Miaka into her sunlit living room and resisting the temptation to walk over and sink down on one of the soft looking, plum-colored couches, knowing that if he did, he wouldn't be leaving.

Something gently bumped into his ankles, and a low, insistent purr reached his ears. Dante looked down to see a beautiful Siamese cat rubbing against his pant legs.

"Well now, aren't you a fine lookin' feline," he murmured, crouching down. He extended a hand to the elegant animal, who eyed and then walked under it, giving dignified permission for him to stroke its fur.

Miaka had turned around and was gaping at the scene. "Mizu likes you!"

Her tone conveyed unflattering disbelief.

"There's a reason why Mizu shouldn't?" Dante asked, continuing to methodically pet the cat at his knee.

"You're a guy!"

Amber eyes danced with mischief. "The last time I looked. So?"

"Mizu has made a habit of scratching, hissing or spraying any male that has come around me." Miaka explained. "You're the first that he's been polite to. He's enemies with everyone else-"

She stopped, realizing too late that the list would include her boyfriend.

Dante grinned. "You have a very intelligent and discerning cat. You should pay attention to what he's tellin' ya."

Unable to think of a comeback, she resorted to making a face at him.

"Nothing to say? Cat's got your tongue?" As she sighed and rolled her eyes, he turned to the purring animal. "Thanks, Miss Mizu. Glad to see someone around here appreciates me and my pun!"

"For your information, Mizu is a _boy_!"

"Uh-oh." Dante said. "Sorry about that, little dude!"

But Mizu was unconcerned as he head butted his visitor's arm, and Dante sent a laughing sideways glance at the cat's owner. "Looks like he's a forgiving kitty."

She shook her head. "More proof that he likes you. With others, he's cool and vindictive."

"Then I better watch it. I wouldn't want to give him any _claws _for getting mad."

Miaka groaned and laughed. "Here you go, Mr. Comedian - why don't you try out that devastating wit on some dispatchers?"

She held out a cordless phone, along with a sticky note with the numbers of three different taxi services scribbled on it, as Dante stood up.

"Thanks for looking up the numbers for me." He said, before taking the items.

As his fingers brushed hers, the air between them seemed to jump with an electric awareness.

"You're welcome." She said, and averted her gaze to the cat who was now persistently winding himself around her ankles.

As she crouched down to pick up her pet, Dante quickly turned away from his second glimpse of paradise.

* * *

"My devastating wit doesn't work on cabbies either." Dante announced, as he hung up a few moments later. "Crabbier than a cuss, an' the soonest anyone can get here is fifteen minutes from now! Talk about bein' slower than molasses!"

He handed Miaka the phone, and she went to set it down on a nearby end table.

For a few long seconds, she lingered there, head down and hand outstretched before turning back to face to him with an oddly determined expression.

"Yes, they certainly can be slow." She said, as their gazes connected. "But I have to say that for once I'm very glad of that."

And just like that, the light atmosphere he had tried to foster with her had turned heavy with implication.

Dante's heart thundered as Miaka began to walk towards him. _She's damn sexy…warm-hearted and fun. God, if she were mine, I'd take good care of her an' stay with her always._

She was standing directly in front of him now, having stopped just short of touching him, although he suspected two parts of her still could if she decided to take a very deep breath.

"I need to ask you something, Dante."

Her expression was inviting, as was her scent. He could feel his common sense slip away and made no effort to stop it from leaving.

"Sure thing." His voice came out sounding raspy, and he cleared his throat. "And what would that be?"

"You told me back in the car that you thought your dream woman may be real." Miaka stated softly.

"Not maybe." He said. "I say she is."

She nodded solemnly. "I was just wondering, then... if you knew who she was?"

Dante stared down at her, feeling both exasperation and amusement. He'd thought he'd been pretty obvious, but before he could form any kind of a reply, she added,

"Is this woman someone named Sandra?"

"S-_Sandra_?" His astonishment made him sputter. "How...how the heck do ya know about her?"

"I overheard you and Craig talking about her at the coffeehouse." She admitted, looking away. "I thought it sounded like she's someone that's important to you."

Though her voice was soft, it held an undeniable edge. Dante began to smile.

No question about it.

Miaka was jealous of his old girlfriend.

The realization sent a burst of adrenaline rocketing through his body, with the desire to carry the woman off to a place where he could show her how he felt instead of wasting time with words following close in its wake. Damn his conscience and the sense of responsibility that wouldn't let him act on that desire. He'd bent the rules for flex time, it would be wrong to skip out on the rest of his shift.

A kiss would have to do for now.

Reaching out, he crooked his forefinger beneath her chin and turned her face back to his.

"Little idiot!" He said huskily. "As far as I'm concerned, Sandra is ancient history. All right?"

"Yes."

But she didn't look reassured, not completely. The question was written all over her face and Dante answered it.

"I can't be sure of an identity because her face has always been partially hidden in the dreams. It's more of a feeling I get about her, you know? I'm certain I was born to be with this person and that I'd know her when I found her." He half smiled. "And as weird as it sounds, everything that I've been experiencing since we've met sure gives me the feeling that she's you, Miaka."

"Oh." She breathed.

"And I have to say, even if you have that other guy, I kinda think you feel the same way." He shrugged. "I'm hopin' ya do. Maybe I'm wrong to say that, but..."

"No." She said.

Her green eyes had filled with an emotion that Dante didn't dare put a name to in case he was under the influence of wishful thinking. "No what?"

"No, you're not wrong."

Keeping their eyes locked, he palmed the nape of her neck. "Got any other questions?"

She moistened her lips. "Does this mean you're not immune to me?"

He stared at her, then gave a short laugh. "You were _really _listenin' in, weren't you?"

"Yes." She didn't apologize, and he liked that.

"That was a buncha bullshit." He admitted. "I'm definitely _not _immune to _you_."

"But you want to be...don't you?"

The sad smile she gave him after the question doubled his need to comfort and reassure her.

Reaching out with his other hand, he slowly trailed his fingertips down the curve of her face as he answered.

"If I wanted that, I wouldn't be anywhere near ya right now."

He stilled the motion of the hand on her neck, and then used gentle pressure to urge her forward as his arm wrapped around her waist. Satisfaction seared him as her eyes closed in acceptance of the inevitable, and a small smile of triumph parted his lips when her body melted into his and her arms encircled his neck to pull his head down to hers. In the heartbeat before he captured her lips, his desire sharpened senses took note of the rapid beating of the pulse at the base of her throat and the excited catch in her breathing.

Then their mouths met, and Dante discovered that the most erotic dreams he'd ever had could not have prepared him for the sweet explosion of passion.

Every nerve in his body felt as if it was coming alive as her lips eagerly parted under the demanding nudge of his. His tongue slipped into the warm cavern of her mouth, and her tongue rose to meet it, pushing and stroking against his with an abandon that he hadn't expected, and which caused his hunger for her to beat violently against his wall of control. He feasted on her inner fire, feeling every luscious curve and dip of her body aligning with his. It was as if she'd been created especially for him, and him for her.

At that thought, the wall came crashing down. His hands grasped the crests of her hips as his stance widened, a position that brought her into direct contact with his rapidly hardening flesh.

Miaka whimpered in response while her fingers raked through his hair. With an answering groan, Dante thrust his tongue deeper inside her mouth, pressing his aroused body even harder into hers. The desire to submerge himself in her softness was growing more powerful with every second she remained in his grasp. He wanted to make every inch of her naked skin tingle with need, and see her face glowing with the knowledge that she would be his heaven and he would be hers.

For a crazy moment, he contemplated pulling her down onto the living room floor and making her his. It was very clear that she would go with him without question.

Unfortunately, along with that came the knowledge that it was wrong to take advantage of her confusion and unhappiness over her relationship and her need for physical affection. When they shared their bodies with each other for the first time -and there was no doubt in his mind that there'd be one- he would be damn sure there wouldn't be any loves from the past climbing into bed along with them.

For the act to mean what it should, she had to be with him, and only him. With that realization chiseled into his heart and mind, he began to retreat from the kiss, ending it with slow but firm deliberation, bringing himself and the woman he held back down from the heights of arousal. His hands moved to the tops of her shoulders as their lips parted. Her eyelids lifted and she gazed wonderingly at him, the sounds of their rapid breathing filling the silence before he spoke.

"Miaka...does this mean that ya want me to be more than your friend?"

Though his words were tinged with humor, he'd never been more serious in his life.

Her eyes looked a bit anxious. But her voice was steady and sure as she answered,

"Yes, Dante. I believe it does."

* * *

As soon as the forbidden words left her lips, Miaka felt a thrill of anticipation race through her body. It was done. She was going to follow the path her heart was setting, and there was no going back.

Dante exhaled noisily. Lowering his head, he placed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the multitude of emotions churning inside him. Relief, gratitude, happiness, and raging desire were all there …along with something else much, much deeper and sweeter than all those things combined. "The same goes for me." He murmured.

A few repeated blasts of a car horn sounded outside. After a quick glance down at his watch, Dante swore. "There's the taxi...and it's been barely ten frickin' minutes! Why couldn't they take their time for once?"

Miaka giggled and gently disengaged herself from his embrace. "I'll walk you out."

Still wanting contact, he reached out to gently trace a line from her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth, liking the way she closed her eyes in obvious enjoyment of the caress. "I'll call ya after work tonight, okay?"

She nodded her agreement.

They bid a quick farewell to Mizu, and then Miaka locked up the apartment and followed Dante down the outer stairs to the parking lot where a blue and white taxi awaited them. She hung back as the police officer asked the bemused looking cabbie to wait, and then squeaked in surprise as she found herself taken by the elbow and purposefully marched to a position in the driver's blind spot.

As Dante turned her to face him, a heavy silence fell, evidence that neither of them wanted to be the first to say goodbye.

"Make sure to check that your front car doors are locked." He finally said. "There's been an increase in burglaries in the last month."

"I will." She promised, rising on tiptoe to give him a shy peck on his cheek. "Thank you for...for everything."

Dante was amused and annoyed. _That was a piddlin' sisterly kiss. I got just enough time to remind her we ain't related._

Pointedly ignoring the taxi driver who had scooted over to the passenger side for a better view, he reached out and pulled her up against him.

"Hey now...wanna try that one again?"

Miaka's lashes fluttered to her cheeks. A stifled moan escaped her as his mouth claimed hers.

Several passion filled seconds ticked by before their lips parted. Breathing heavily, Dante gathered Miaka close and rested his chin on the top of her head, allowing himself to linger under her feminine spell for just a bit longer. His gut feeling from this morning had been realized. This was definitely a day-and a woman- that he'd never, ever forget.

"These past couple hours have been incredible." He said unsteadily. "Really does feel like a dream."

Her sigh was felt rather than heard. "That's exactly what I was thinking."

From somewhere behind them, the cabbie cleared his throat- loudly, and at great length.

Dante directed a brief glare at him, then grudgingly took the unsubtle hint. "Damn. Looks like I have to go."

"It's okay." Miaka murmured. "I'll be looking forward to your phone call tonight."

He smiled and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Me too."

His fingers lingered on the softness of her flesh before his hand fell to his side.

Turning abruptly, he opened the door and climbed into the back seat of the waiting taxi, apparently not trusting himself to look back until the vehicle was pulling away.

Miaka waved until the cab was lost to view, then crossed her arms in front of her body. Strange how lonely and cold she felt, even though there were people all around and the sun was beating down upon her head. Dante had taken all of the day's warmth and excitement along with him when he left.

Several minutes passed by before she could shake herself free of her mope enough to stroll over to the space where her car was parked.

As Dante had suspected, the doors had been left unlocked. Shaking her head at her carelessness, she went and opened the driver's door and used the master console to secure the vehicle.

She was about to shove the door closed, but seeing a familiar object lying on the back seat gave her pause.

_He's forgotten his hat! I hope he won't get in trouble for it! _

As another realization sank in, her anxious frown transformed into a wide smile.

Having a vital part of his uniform virtually guaranteed she'd be seeing Dante again before the day was through.

**To be continued!**

**Reviewers will be greeted with a pot of Craig's special coffee and Nuriko-like shrieks of caffeine-induced glee!**


	6. Chapter Six

**Leather and Lace**

**By: Maidens of Konan**

_(Disclaimer: We do not claim to own any part of Fushigi Yûgi, it is owned by Watase Yuu, Shogakukan Comics, Pierrot Studios, TV Tokyo and Pioneer! Non canon ideas and any original characters that appear are the intellectual property of the author(s) and should not be copied without permission. Recipe requests for Miaka's yummy meat pies will be taken at intermission.)_

**Chapter Six**

Miaka closed the door to her apartment and leaned back against it while the morning's events continued to replay themselves in her mind.

What had happened between her and Dante had the feel of one of her fantasies, but the hat clutched in her hands assured her that the man who had removed it for her it was flesh and blood real.

It was proof that she had willingly and wholeheartedly kissed a man other than Taka, and a reminder that she had to get a handle on the connection between herself, Dante and Tasuki.

Dante wasn't the only one who had been dreaming about finding a lover- she'd started having those kinds of dreams while still residing in Japan. The difference was that she had known who that dream man was right away. Even in her subconscious, it wasn't possible for Tasuki to allow himself to be relegated to the background.

After the initial disquiet about thinking of her good friend in that way, she'd rationalized the content of her imaginings. Not being able to be with Taka coupled with her a secret attraction to the handsome and heroic Tasuki was a fertile setting for fantasy. It was a normal response to overactive hormones, nothing to worry about; when she was reunited with Taka, everything would be fine. These feelings just needed to be nutured by him at closer quarters, that was all.

She had felt it her sacred duty to be the one to make it so, and she'd packed up and moved to the United States with that intention. And the dreams had subsided when she'd arrived, but not for the reason she'd thought. She was too busy working on improving her English, securing gainful employment, and acclimating to her new life and the Colorado climate to give any thought to romance at first.

But as days turned to weeks, and it had slowly become apparent that closer proximity to Taka wasn't rekindling the passion in their relationship, the dreams about Tasuki had returned. She had allowed herself the indulgence, this time without any qualms. There was no chance of any of it happening in reality, so what it matter if she were putting herself into a novel or movie as a main character to imagine how a romantic scenario between herself and the bandit warrior might have played out? It was a harmless coping mechanism for what was happening, and not happening, in her real relationship and it gave her something to look forward to the nights spent alone with her newly acquired cat.

The dreams had gotten more detailed, and she'd grown more restless. After waking in the middle of the night to the sensuous after sensation of her dream bandit's lovemaking, she couldn't help but reasses the 'it's harmless' angle. It was clear to her now that repeatedly dreaming of Tasuki was a sign- and a warning- about her changing feelings regarding Taka. The heart could make miracles, but maybe her heart had been capable of making a mistake in expecting things to stay a certain way. The knowledge of who Taka had been went a long way in blinding her to certain traits that had the potential to take a turn for the worse.

Taka had been living in the States longer than he'd originally intended, and last month when he'd broken the news of his contract extension, a decision made without consulting her, she was surprised to find she wasn't upset. She'd already began to feel a disconnect with their relationship, but yet she wasn't sorry she'd followed him. Opportunities she never would have had in Japan had presented themselves- her life here had been an eye opener in so many ways. She'd never realized that she would be feeling so confident about her own success in a country that had been almost as foreign to her as the book world, much less be taking steps in applying for permanent residency without even asking if Taka would be staying too.

Taka refused to see the problems they'd been having because he was so focused on the path he'd chosen for himself. She had initially refused to see that what he presented to her as his dutiful role to provide for a future wife and family was really an obsessive need for financial security.

And what had she done but agree and enable? She'd let things go on as they were, tried to stay positive in outlook, all the while dissatisfaction was stirring. Her fantasies of Tasuki pointed to dissatisfaction deepening to unhappiness. Night after night she was wooed by the bandit seishi, who was always there for her while Taka wasn't. Day after day she thought about what what made a strong relationship, and found that hers bore little resemblance to anything she was envisioning.

Did the recent revelations of her heart have anything to do with Dante walking into her life? Was something bigger at work?

It was unfortunate that The Universe of the Four Gods was still housed somewhere in the national library archive in Japan. Without access to that world, she had no way of finding out the answers to her question about Dante. That world was closed to a priestess who had fulfilled her role, but she certainly could have read it to see if it would tell her what had happened in her absence.

Of course she wouldn't be satisfied with merely reading. Or even establishing verbal contact with anyone inside of it, assuming any attempt she made at communication could succeed. Even if it did, it was no guarantee. The Universe of the Four Gods wasn't much for the dispensation of direct information - a lesson she'd learned on her first meeting with the benevolent but irascible Taiitsukun, whose rules of engagement involved legends and handing out information about them on a strictly need to know basis, which even then required the questioner to prove their worth through trials of character before being enlightened.

The first lesson she had learned was that there wasn't an easy answer to a worthwhile question.

The second lesson, figuring out what question was worthy of an answer, was even harder.

The third lesson, to know herself and then overcome herself, was the hardest of all.

What did she believe was the truth?

She stared down at the hat, mulling over the reasons why she felt no guilt over having kissed its owner.

She had already been questioning whether a marital partnership with Taka would be satisfying, but she'd never thought she'd act on serious consideration of making a change until meeting a second reincarnation of one of her protectors. A couple of hours spent with Dante had been all it took to make her realize what she wanted to regain in her life. He had shared his thoughts with her in a way that Taka would not, had made her smile and laugh in a way she hadn't for a very long time. And kissing him drove everything out of her mind except wanting more.

It couldn't be a fluke that she'd crossed paths with the personification of the only man who was willing and able to challenge Tamahome; the only thing that had stopped him from succeeding had been her own request that he stand down. And he had, putting himself through agony before she'd seen the error she had made in underestimating his devotion to her.

Dante was the same kind of man. He wouldn't lie about his feelings, but he'd walk away if that was what she wanted.

She owed it to him not to repeat the mistakes she'd made the first time around. Right now, there was nothing to be done but to be honest about her feelings about their current situation. No matter how right or how good it felt to be with Dante ,engaging in romance with him without having figured out what and when she was going to tell Taka wasn't going to work.

A jingling collar bell heralded the arrival of Mizu. As soon as the cat spotted his mistress staring intently off into space, he padded up to her and butted his head against her ankles, the best way he knew to bring her out of her muse.

"You knew Dante was special, didn't you kitty?" She crouched down and scratched beneath his fuzzy chin while he purred his approval of her attentions. "It's not just because of Tasuki. But I can't deny that's the reason that I'm was so strongly attracted to him. Am I unfair in wanting to know him now because of who he was? I shouldn't expect anything from Dante that I had with Tasuki...should I?"

The purring stopped as Mizu sat down and regarded her with an unblinking, enigmatic stare.

Miaka sighed.

"I suppose it doesn't matter if it's fair. The fact is that he kissed me, I kissed him back, and now I have a very hard decision to make."

The Siamese responded with a gruff meow, and then ran to jump onto the back of the couch, his favorite perch when he wanted to keep an eye on things. Miaka smiled fondly at her pet, and then stood and kicked off her sandals before heading off to the bedroom to change.

When she was halfway to her destination, the phone rang. She hurried to pick up the cordless receiver, glancing at the display before answering.

She didn't recognize the caller number. Maybe it was Dante, calling about what he'd forgotten?

The thought brought on a big smile as she pushed the talk button, and athrill of anticipation ran through her as she waited for a reply to her somewhat breathy hello.

"Miaka! Where the _hell_ have you been?"

The agitated male voice barking at her in Japanese erased her smile and pulled her back down to earth with a jolt._"_Taka! I'm so, so sorry about this morning! I had every intention of being there, but I was delayed."

"Delayed? By what? What happened?"

"By the police. I got stopped for speeding." She explained.

"I see." Taka's tone was icily calm. "It took that long for writing you a ticket?"

"While I was getting the ticket, I ended up having a dizzy spell. " She sank onto the sofa, wondering how she could broach the subject of Dante. Now that the moment of confrontation had arrived, there was a sick feeling churning in the pit of her stomach. "It was bad enough that the policeman who stopped me was worried that I would have another one while I was driving. He arranged to take me home."

"He escorted you home?"

"Yes, and he was right to do so. I wasn't in any shape to drive."

With a loud jingle of his collar bell, Mizu jumped up and into her lap, glaring at the phone as if he knew the person at the other end was responsible for her distress. Grateful for the support, she pet him in long strokes as he curled up.

"I put off a meeting so we could be together." Taka said.

"I appreciate that, and I'm sorry."

"It turned out I was able to reschedule the meeting, but I might as well not have bothered. Do you think I could concentrate on what he was saying while I was wondering what happened to you? I pretty much wasted his time and mine."

_So worrying about my safety is a waste of time now?_ Miaka thought, stiffening. Mizu raised his head as he felt her thigh muscles contracting beneath him, then stood up and began to knead the flesh beneath him with soothing, velvety paws as she replied, " I didn't stand you up on purpose, Taka. As I just told you, I had a spell of altitude sickness and the policeman who stopped me then insisted I shouldn't be driving!"

"Didn't you have your cel phone?" Taka snapped, ignoring the suggestion. "All you had to do was call or text me and I could have come and gotten you!"

Miaka closed her eyes and counted to ten before she dared to reply. "Yes, I did think of that. Unfortunately the phone didn't work because I forgot to recharge the battery last night. It was very late when I got home from work and I was tired. The only things I cared about were a hot bath and a soft pillow."

"I've also been trying to call your land line all morning!" Taka informed her stubbornly. "It just rang and rang. Haven't you activated voice mail?"

She glanced at the machine, and saw it was off. "I guess I didn't."

"Really? What's gotten into you?"

"I overslept and was in a hurry! I screwed up! I'm sorry! Ill apologize as many times as you want, but I would think you have better things to do than _waste_ _your_ _time_ listening to me grovel for forgiveness!"

A tense silence blanketed the connection. Miaka seethed, but held her tongue. Telling Taka about Dante out of anger wasn't the way she wanted to handle it.

Finally, Taka cleared his throat.

"I told myself I wasn't going to yell at you and I did anyway." He said, sounding concilitory. "It's just not like you not to call, you know? I knew something had to be wrong when you didn't show, because that's never happened before! And then when I couldn't get in touch...dammit, Miaka, I _hated_ not knowing where you were, and if you were all right!" He paused and a loud exhalation of breath crackled over the phone line. "I know you didn't do it on purpose, and I'm sorry if I'm being harsh. It's just that you scared the crap out of me."

The apology and the sincere anxiety in his voice eased her wounded feelings. "I'm really sorry that I worried you. In future, I'll make sure to call you right away if I'm getting a late start."

While she was speaking, Miaka's gaze was fixed upon the policeman's hat lying beside her. Was the future something she could rightfully promise to Taka? She had passed up opportunities to call her boyfriend because she'd been so excited about being with Dante. Having preference for another man's company over Taka's had been a monumental first step to changing the course of her life, and she had taken it with a surprising lack of hesitation. Could she really go the rest of the way?

As if from a great distance she heard a voice speaking to her in an inquiring tone. She tried to focus on what Taka was saying, but ended up having to ask him to repeat the question.

"I was wondering since you're off tonight and I'm not working late, why don't I stop by?" His voice dropped into the low, intimate tone that had always weakened her knees. "We could have dinner in. I'll even cook, though we both know it won't be as good as one of your meals. Then after dinner, I could give you one of those shiatsu-style back rubs you like, and after that, I could make the_ rest _of you feel even better…"

The words trailed off, but the confidence that lay beneath them was evident. And Taka had good reason to be sure of her acceptance. Their history was such that they both knew that she would have dropped everything and done anything for a chance to be intimate with him, even if it was on short notice. But she'd was now less than receptive to this kind of overture since she'd had the epiphany that they only happened whenever Taka had upset her and felt he needed to atone. After that, that aspect of their relationship had taken on the feeling of a busy master throwing his neglected pet a bone rather than the joyous, full hearted mingling of bodies it had once been.

And now, after one kiss shared with Dante, the idea of a romantic and sexy evening with Taka had become an idea she simply couldn't entertain.

"That's a lovely thought," she said in a neutral tone, "but I'm tired and not feeling the greatest...and I have to work the early shift tomorrow. It's probably best for me to have a quiet night to myself."

Stunned silence greeted her response. Miaka had to suppress the urge to giggle, even though there was nothing funny about Taka being rendered speechless at her calm refusal of this rare treat. After all the times he had blown off their dates, he had finally gotten a dose of his own medicine!

"Then I'll take a rain check." He said, sounding noticeably subdued. "I know you've been working really hard, and after what happened to you today I don't want you overdoing it. Altitude sickness is nothing to mess around with, you know. You need to pump the fluids and get plenty of rest."

"I know, and I will." She promised, softening slightly as a twinge of guilt tweaked her conscience. He was showing concern for her well being having no idea she'd been in another protector's arms. "Taka…I'm really, truly sorry about what happened this morning. I was not thinking straight. I should have called you just as soon as I got home."

"It's okay. You were feeling sick...and anyway, I know I've done the same to you about a hundred times since you got here." He murmured. "I'm very sorry it came down to you having to get a speeding ticket because you didn't want to miss seeing me." He brightened. "But I swear that it will be better in the future, honey. The long hours I work now will be rewarded by my getting the kind of promotion where I'll be able to delegate most of the stuff I'm doing now to others. When that happens, I'll be with you so much you'll think I'm your shadow! You believe that, don't you?"

There was an expectant pause, and Miaka rubbed a hand across her forehead, trying to ease the onset of a tension headache. Taka was waiting for her to tell him that yes, of course she believed that he was doing it for them, and that yes, she wholeheartedly supported his efforts to attain financial freedom for the future. But for the first time in their relationship she was going to deny him the satisfaction of hearing those words. They no longer rang true.

___He knows darn well that _I don't need a mansion, fancy vehicles and truckloads of possessions to be happy. All of that is for himself. T_here will always be one more thing that he has to get before he can be happy._

"Miaka? You understand that it's for the best, right?"

"I do understand that earning a living comes first." She replied. "It's just the way it is."

There was another awkward pause.

"I do have some good news, Mi-chan." Taka was speaking in the careful, cajoling manner of a man that is no longer quite so sure of the mood of his woman. "I was going to surprise you with it at breakfast, but...well anyway, I managed to clear my entire schedule for the entire weekend so I could take you for a couple nights in Cripple Creek. If you're feeling up to going, that is."

She wasn't impressed. The number of times he had made plans to take her for visit the historical town only to have to cancel because of work cast a more than reasonable doubt in her mind that he would follow through this time. "I'm sure I'll be feeling all right when that time comes." She said, with a touch of irony.

"All right, it's a date! And I'm going to make sure you have the best time ever, my love!" He declared. "I've wanted to take you to dinner at the Broadmoor Hotel as well. How how about if we stop for a bite there on our way home?"

Against the odds, she was wavering. The spontineity of the offer held echoes of her sweet Taka of old, and the genuine eagerness in his voice gave her a glimmer of hope. Perhaps this signaled a change in his thinking. Perhaps his worrying over her had made him see that his priorities were in the wrong order. After all he had meant to her and all that he'd done for her, she should give this a final chance.

"That sounds nice." She admitted. "I've heard the Broadmoor is not to be missed."

"I'll have my secretary call to finalize our plans." Taka said. "You should have something fashionable and elegant to wear for a five star restaurant. If you're feeling up to it later, take my credit card and go and buy yourself a nice dress and some lingerie."

The small blossom of hope wilted.

Tamahome had sometimes struggled in expressing his feelings, but had never made her feel like a prize to be bought. Money's importance for him was solely for the noble cause of caring for his sick father and young siblings. Taka had been more like that when they had first met, back when he was working as a waiter. As he'd moved up in the world, it seemed he'd lost track of enjoying the simple pleasures money couldn't buy versus making money to the point of excluding anything -or anyone- that kept him from that pursuit.

_He's treating me like a mistress, and our time together like a business contact. Why doesn't he see that? _

This man was far removed from the person who had said that his purpose in being born into this world was to love her. She barely knew who Taka Sukinami was anymore.

_But you've changed too, haven't you, Miaka? _Her conscience rebuked her. _Once upon a time you loved Taka so much you wouldn't look twice at Tasuki as a man. You wouldn't have allowed him to kiss you, let alone kiss him back! _

"Miaka? You still there? You're not feeling sick, are you?"

"I'm fine." She replied mechanically.

"You sound tired. I'll let you go get some rest."

"I think I will." She was disappointed in herself for taking the out, but it also wouldn't be good if she hadn't prepared enough to explain her decision in the face of the argument that was sure to follow what she needed to tell him.

"Don't forget to charge your cel phone before you lie down, okay?"

"I won't. Goodnight, Taka."

"Goodnight my love."

After Miaka hung up the phone, she reached for the hat lying next to her.

Leaning back into the couch, she put up her feet as she balanced it between her hands, gazing at it as if was a crystal ball that could give her the answers she sought. Her fingers idly traced the law enforcement crest on the front, and then slipped inside the brim to caress the inner contours that had rested upon its owner's glorious hair.

A rueful smirk curled her lips.

_How pathetic am I? I turned down a sure thing to fondle a hat as I wait for a call that very well might not come. _

But she couldn't get depressed over the possibility when she was completelycertain that Dante _would _call her if he said he was going to do it. She was equally as sure that she wouldn't think about anything else in the time before answering that call. The prospect of having that low growl of his voice in her ear excited her more than a weekend getaway to Cripple Creek and dinner at a five star restaurant. The only guilt she felt in that admission was that she hadn't yet come clean with Taka about Dante. Why had she taken the easy excuse he'd provided instead of confronting the issue?

It was too much. All she'd done was think ever since she'd gotten here. It was time to act.

_Dante is going to need the hat right away. Bringing it to the precinct building could get Dante in trouble if his coworkers would question how it ended up with me. I really don't want to explain why I have it ...or lie about it. I could drive down to Brew You and leave it there. But that seems silly- why get Craig involved?_

Mired in her mental debate, Miaka jumped at the loud jangle made by something being dropped on the floor next to her feet. Looking down, she saw Mizu staring up, her car keys lying between his front paws.

Smiling, she reached down to scratch him behind the ears. "You know I'd love to take it to him, but I don't know where he lives."

The cat gave her a disgruntled look, then jumped up on the end table to paw at the cordless phone.

His mistress smacked herself on the forehead. "Why didn't I think of that? I'll call information to see if his name and address is listed! It'll save him a trip…and I'll get to see where he lives!"

She picked up the cat and hugged him to her, blithely ignoring his struggles to get away. "Treats for you, Mizu-Pizu! You're one incredible kitty!"

* * *

As soon as he got home from work, Dante replaced his uniform with his favorite t-shirt and a comfortable pair of cutoffs, and then wandered into the kitchen to unwind with a glass of vino and the prepartion of some supper.

He had just gotten dinner on the stove top and had uncorked a bottle when the front doorbell chimed. Frowning in displeasure at the demand, he made no move to answer it, willing whoever was at his door to leave him in peace.

An afternoon of having to listen the lame excuses of drivers while he sweated like a pig within the hot confines of his long sleeved uniform had amply punished him for his slack time in the morning. One sweet little old lady had cried as he told her the background check on her license revealed that it had been suspended due to her recent diagnosis of glaucoma. Though he felt deep sympathy for her plight, he had had to harden his heart; with impaired eyesight, she was a danger to herself and others on the road.

To top things off, he found he missed the hat that was no longer in his possession. He hadn't realized how much of a buffer it gave against the sun and people gawking at his hair.

Iin spite of the less than stellar latter half of his work day, he had returned to the station at the end of his shift in a decent mood, and with high hopes of getting news that his reassignment was a one day shot because the Boss had gotten him reinstated to his case.

It hadn't taken long for Connery's administrative assistant to put his hopes on ice. Turned out that the old man had left work early without giving any word as to Dante's status. After that disappointment, he spent too much time doing his paperwork on computer, prolonging the ordeal due to making some stupid clerical errors.

Then, on his way home, the Jeep picked up a nail in the left front tire. While he had been changing it, he had spotted a car that looked just like Miaka's. His heart had leapt with excitement until he spotted the 'Reality Sucks' sticker on the front bumper, and the balding, middle-aged male behind the wheel.

Thoroughly disgruntled, he returned to his task, now absolutely certain that he was being punished for this morning's dalliance.

But even so, it had been so worth it.

Thinking about the morning's events was exhilarating and nerve wracking. She had a boyfriend, but she wanted to see him. He couldn't wait to call her, but he didn't want to seem pathetically eager. He had his pride, but yet he damn well knew he couldn't have walked away from her if she'd said she wanted just to be friends.

The time to call her was almost at hand, and the chime of his front doorbell was an unwelcome intrusion into his thoughts. He needed to think about what he was going to say to her. He was in no mood to deal with a potential problem standing outside his door.

He rubbed his aching neck with one hand and continued to sauté his dinner with the other.

_If I don't answer, maybe they'll give up and leave._

To his increased annoyance, the doorbell sounded again. And again...and again.

Whoever was waiting was a patient and determined person.

Muttering curses, Dante made a move to turn off the burner.

As he stalked out of the kitchen, he shot a glare at the clock on the wall. It was too late in the day for a salesman or the lady from across the street with her weekly invite to her social activities , and too early for the old lady next door to call and ask him to check the neighborhood for ne'er-do-wells. He chuckled grimly; after a memorable run-in with Dante's infamous temper, Evelyn had suddenly realized that when he was off duty, he needed that time to relax and eat his meals.

The false medical alerts were another story. He'd have to address the issue with her the next time she dared crossing _that _particular line.

That left just one more possibility. Craig was the only person foolhardy enough to show up unannounced at this inopportune time of day, and was chomping at the bit to know how a little hottie like Miaka had fallen into Dante's lap and what Dante was planning to do about it. The guy's preoccupation with getting him permanently hooked up with a woman was starting to wear a bit thin.

_Don't want him here when I call Miaka, but I got no reasonable excuse to make him leave. _Dante thought with a scowl._ I'll just have to put up with his crap. If he knows who I'm talking to, I'm screwed, but if I don't call, I'm screwed even worse. _

Resigned to his fate, he cast a narrow-eyed glare through the skinny window next to the door, which quickly became a wide eyed look of surprise as he glimpsed the petite Asian woman with wavy auburn tresses standing on his front porch. _I'll be damned! How'd she find me? Kinda looks like she's havin' second thoughts, though. Better invite her in before she runs away!_

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he yanked the door open, happy for the first time since he'd moved in that there was no outer storm door. Nothing should get in the way of his getting close to this particular visitor! He leaned a hand against the doorframe, looking down at her with grin. "Hey Miaka!"

"H-hello Dante."

She shifted from one foot to the other, her hands clasped behind her back. He allowed his gaze to move over her form, taking thorough stock of how cute and sexy she looked.

Her hair fell loose about her shoulders, making his fingers itch to comb though it. Her large, gorgeous eyes held a shyness that was confirmed by the pink tinge that had appeared in her cheeks. It was sweet, and made him suspect that at this moment she was thinking of the kiss they'd exchanged.

That was good.

In contrast to the dress of this morning, she now wore a pair of denim shorts that showed off sweetly curved hips and a tantalizing amount of leg, and a tight white T-shirt that emphasized her womanly attributes.

Very nice.

His gaze lingered a bit longer on the most prominent parts of her anatomy before returning to her face in time to see that Miaka was checking him out too- if a little more subtly.

When her eyes widened and fixed upon a spot near his shoulder, he automatically glanced down, curious to know what had caught her attention. Comprehension dawned as he spotted the bead encrusted rope of hair his sisters fondly referred to as his 'rat tail'.

"You have a braid." She murmured, stating the obvious.

"I hide it under my collar." He admitted. "And I don't have any in, but I may as well tell ya I like wearin' earrings."

She stared at his ear lobes, obviously seeing the telltale holes for the first time.

"Hope that doesn't put ya off." He added quickly.

"Not at all! I have always liked earrings on-" She stopped, then finished weakly, "...on a man."

Dante looked pleased. "Good to know. I'll be sure I'm wearin' some next time."

* * *

Miaka averted her gaze. Thanks to feeling shy and nervous, she'd almost made a disastrous slip of the tongue. The pleasurable mental image of Dante wearing a certain bandit's trademark jewelry hadn't helped either.

_As if he doesn't look sexy enough now, _she thought, as she ran a hidden glance over his torso, noting with appreciation how his cropped t-shirt accentuated broad shoulders, a muscled chest and nicely defined biceps. Low riding cut-offs hugged his lean hips, and exposed his flat abdomen to advantage. His legs were long and as fit as the rest of him. Her eyes took in Nike encased feet, and then lifted to meet an amused amber gaze.

"Whatcha hiding back there?" Dante asked.

"Oh!" Regaining a bit of her composure, she brought the hat from behind her back. "Here you go. I came to return this to you."

Dante was no longer smiling. He stared at the hat as if it had sprouted four legs and a tail.

"You left it in my car." She explained. Maybe Mizu's idea wasn't quite so wonderful after all. _I should've called and asked him if it was okay to come over instead of just showing up on his doorstep. That was really dumb. _"I waited until now, because I thought you might get in trouble if I brought it to the station."

Dante still hadn't made a move to take his property, so she continued in a nervous staccato.

"I- I got your address from the phone book. I'm very sorry to intrude. You probably didn't need me to bring it when you were going to call. I should have made arrangements to return it then. But I'm here, so take it, and I'll be on my way."

She thrust the hat forward, prepared to leave as soon as it was in his possession.

Dante's hand rose in response, but instead of taking the offered item his fingers encircled her wrist. Her skin soaked in the contact with illicit pleasure even as she agonized over her inexcusable breach of etiquette.

"Good job. You're not intruding. Yes, I needed it. " He stated succinctly. "Now that you're here, please stay."

"Thank you, but I don't think-"

"Please." He repeated. "The bad attitude is because I was disappointed ya had a reason to come here besides just wanting to see me."

She had no defense against his honesty. "Oh."

"Yeah." He said, watching her face pinken with pleasure. "Oh."

* * *

As happiness flowed from the cracks in her heart, Miaka knew that the change she had been contemplating was imminent.

It was strange to think that when they'd first met in the book, she hadn't given a thought to Tasuki being anything more than her guardian warrior. Of course, as time had passed they'd established a friendship that soon became a familial bond. He had acted like a big brother, and she'd assumed he thought of her as a sister until that fateful night at the Inn.

Tasuki had been under a spell so it really wasn't him who had attempted to force himself upon her. But after Hikou had captured her and explained the spell, she realized that there had to have been a solid reason for it to have worked as well as it had. During his profuse apologies, Tasuki had confirmed that by admitting to her that his actions had been based on feelings for her other than friendship.

In a cruel twist, that admission together with his many sacrifices on her behalf had opened her eyes and her heart to the bittersweet possibility of returning his feelings. But even as she thought it, she knew it was too late. She loved Taka, and her course could not be altered if he were to survive. She'd gone back to treating Tasuki as a friend and ignored anything else she might have felt for him. It had been simpler and safer not to acknowledge that things could have gone in another direction if circumstances had been different.

And now the circumstances were. Another place, another time. Dante shared Tasuki's physical characteristics and the happy arrogance that had always made her smile. He had Tasuki's straightforward manner and gallantry. For all intents and purposes he _was_ the embodiment of Tasuki, albeit a more adult embodiment.

But Dante was his own person. There were going to be differences other than the obvious ones of background and nationality that would crop up- she knew that because it had happened with her in regards to Tamahome and Taka. Dante deserved to be appreciated on his own merits as well as for what he had been to her in the past. But as much as she knew that, she still couldn't help wondering how much Dante might remember of what had become of her beloved bandit after she'd left.

Tasuki. If she closed her eyes, she could picture his final salute as she was sent back to this world...

"Miaka?"

She blinked. "Yes?"

"If you're lost in thought, it better be about me."

She opened her mouth, but the formation of words was diverted by the sensation of Dante's thumb caressing the back of her wrist. She was sure he could feel her pulse banging against his fingers, as he began to pull her towards him.

"It...it was."

"Good."

She was right in front of him now. Sweet anticipation pierced her at seeing the intent in his eyes, but her gaze was diverted to the open doorway and the haze that was billowing forth to hover over his head. She sniffed experimentally, and her nose registered a slightly acrid smell. Yes, something was definitely burning. "Um, Dante…would you happen to have left something cooking on your stove?"

Her companion jerked as if snapping out of a trance, and then froze with an expression of chagrin as the aroma of charred tenderloin assaulted his nostrils.

Without a word, he turned and ran inside his house.

Miaka hesitated only a brief instant before following.

After removing her shoes and making sure the door was securely closed behind her, she hurried along the path he'd taken and found herself standing in a pleasingly large, sunlight-splashed kitchen. The sight that next met her eyes had her biting the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing. Dante stood at the sink, frying pan in hand, letting the rushing water from the tap douse smoking, blackened chunks of meat. Luckily for him, the water also drowned out his muttered curses. Glancing over his shoulder he gave her an embarrassed grin.

"Thought I turned the burner off, but it was on simmer." He shrugged. "I was going to ask ya to stay for supper, but I've managed to ruin it…"

"I'd love to stay for a meal!" She said, moving further into the room. "I'm sure we can find something else to make. Let me prepare it for you."

Dante shut off the water with a decisive flick of his hand. "All right, but only if you swear you're not going to judge my culinary ability on this one time. I really _can_ cook!"

"I believe you." She smiled as she took the smoking frying pan out of his other hand and gave him his hat. "I'll take care of this. I think _you_ need to go and change the batteries in your smoke alarms! They should have gone off!"

"Yes ma'am." He said dutifully, then went to do as she suggested.

* * *

When Dante returned from his assigned task, he pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and dropped into it with an appreciative grunt.

By the look of things, Miaka had everything under control; she'd already disposed of the burnt offering in the pan and washed it, and was now busy gathering supplies. His eyes followed her with ever-increasing masculine interest. _There's definitely something very sexy about watching her cook for me,_ he thought idly. The rest of him agreed, judging by the way his body stirred to life as his guest got something out of the refrigerator and _he _got a perfect view of her cute little ass.

"Thanks for bringing my hat back," He finally said, hoping conversation would banish the wild impulse he had to taste Miaka the way she was tasting the salad dressing she had just whipped up.

She glanced at him quickly before picking up a pairing knife and starting to slice the cucumber she had just gotten from the refrigerator. "You're welcome." The knife paused in mid chop. "It was terribly forward and rude for me to show up unannounced, especially when I could have waited and told you about it when you called instead."

"I'm glad you didn't wait."

"I was actually happy when I found it." She confessed. "It was the best excuse to see you right away."

"Then I'm glad I forgot it."

The chopping resumed. Miaka kept her eyes on her hands, but seemed quite unaware of the unnecessary force she was using to hack the ill-fated cucumber into oblivion.

Dante grinned at her flustered expression.

Leaning his arms on the table, he rested his chin in one hand and regarded her with laughing eyes. "You know, great minds think alike. I was debating over whether I should forget the call and just turn up on your doorstep tonight with two hot fudge sundaes and a video!"

"I would have liked that very much." A smile confirmed it, though she still avoided eye contact.

"Why a chef?" He asked.

She looked up, startled by the abrupt change of topic. "Excuse me?"

"I was wonderin' why you want to become a chef." He clarified. "My sisters all hate to cook, and I learned out of necessity."

"I'll tell you if you tell me why you decided to become a policeman first!" She teased, then immediately kicked herself for sounding flippant as her host's smile disappeared. Clearly, she'd hit some kind of a nerve. "Dante, I apologize. If it's a painful reason, you don't have to-"

"No, it's all right." He assured her. "My dad was a cop in Atlanta, and he was killed in a shootout when I was a kid. Going to his funeral, seeing all the uniforms that came out in his honor, riding in the procession they had for him and having so many of them keep an eye on my family's welfare in the years following is what decided my career path. I wanted to give back to those officers as well as honor my dad's memory." He looked away, but not before Miaka had seen a hint of moisture in his eyes. "But I did it for myself too. My Dad believed that it was his destiny to serve and protect, and that's why he did what he did. He always made sure that he gave his all to help people do the right thing. I guess that attitude rubbed off on me as well, because I feel exactly the same way."

Miaka put down the knife, and went to take his hand. "I'm so sorry about your father. He was a good man, and I'm sure he's very, very proud of what you've accomplished."

"Thanks." Dante's eyes were averted, but he squeezed her hand tightly before releasing it.

Sensing he needed some space, she returned to her preparations.

When he looked up a few moments later, his expression was cheerful. "I've answered your question, so now it's your turn! So, 'fess up- what made Miaka Yuuki want to become a chef?"

"Well, because I love to eat." She began, as Dante chuckled in remembrance of the huge lunch he had watched her consume. "But mainly because I was also getting tired of the jokes about making myself and other people deathly ill with my horrible cooking!"

She waited patiently for his laughter to subside before continuing.

"When I started high school, I signed up right away for some gourmet cooking classes. My friends and family thought I was a hopeless cause and that they would be goners…." she rolled her eyes and he laughed again, "but much to their surprise, and mine, I stopped burning things and actually got the hang of what I was supposed to be doing. Not soon after that, I realized that I enjoyed gourmet food preparation, and actually had a strong desire to excel at it, so I took and aced every cooking class offered at Yotsubadai. By the time I graduated from there I had applied to and had been accepted at Tokyo's top culinary school. I graduated with honors, then got a job in the kitchens of one of Tokyo's best Chinese restaurants. I had worked myself all the way up to assistant chef before I moved here. I have no regrets, though, since it was a dream of mine to study in America."

"An' here I thought your boyfriend bein' here was the reason you wanted t'be here," Dante remarked.

Miaka lowered her gaze to the tomato she was slicing, feeling his watchful gaze boring into her as she avoided giving him a direct answer. "It was both. Like I said, I'd always wanted to study in America, and when I found a position in Colorado Springs, I grabbed it. It was a demotion from the responsibilities I had at He-Yan Gardens, but the pay is good, and I'm learning more about American cuisine than I ever could in Tokyo. I also have the opportunity to work my way up again to chef-in-charge, so I don't mind paying my dues."

"That's impressive." Dante responded sincerely. "But I gotta ask- what the heck is a sous-chef?"

A sideways glance told her he was embarrassed to have had to ask. Miaka grinned. "It's a fancy title given to the person that prepares all the ingredients and garnishes for the head chef's recipes before they are taken to the clientele. It's not very glamorous saying I de-bone chickens, make sauces, and chop vegetables for a living, but I had to start some-"

Her voice broke off abruptly as the knife she was wielding slipped sideways. Before she could react, it had sliced into the tender flesh of her forefinger. She let out a small cry of pain.

Dante was at her side in a flash. He winced and went pale at the sight of the steady stream of blood trickling down the side of her finger, but his grip and voice were steady as he looked at her injury.

"It doesn't look too deep." He assured her, after a quick examination. "I don't think you'll need stitches."

"I hope not," she whispered unsteadily. "My hands and fingers are my livelihood."

"Then I should tell ya somethin' that not too many people know about my assessment skills." He flashed her a mischievous smile. "I'm _always_ right!"

Despite her throbbing finger, she couldn't help laughing at the cheerful arrogance in his voice. Dante's unflagging optimism, and his teasing despite the deep concern that shone in his eyes were definitely inherited traits.

Amusement was a memory now, and an urge to cry welled up within her as she wondered once again what could have happened to the bandit seishi that would enable Dante to be with her now. She quickly cast her gaze to her feet and blinked hard to hold back the threatening tears. Dante was doing his best in trying to cheer her up. She didn't want him to see the pain that had nothing to do with her injured finger, and everything to do with the ache in her heart.

Her host had tucked her arm securely under his as he guided her to the double wide sink. He adjusted the faucet to cold before turning on the tap, then placed her injured finger directly underneath the cascade of water to wash it free of blood. Miaka sucked in a breath and closed her eyes against its icy sting.

After a couple of minutes, Dante turned off the faucet and raised the injured hand to inspect the wound. The satisfaction in his voice as he pronounced it to be a fairly superficial cut gave her the courage to open her eyes and examine the injury on her own.

"Thank goodness!" She breathed as she stared at the trickle of blood emerging from her skin. "I couldn't imagine trying to chop up anything at work with stitches in my finger."

* * *

"A little hydrogen peroxide and a band-aid will fix ya right up." Dante said.

Now that the crisis was over, he was suddenly very conscious of the light floral perfume she wore, and of the warmth of her breath caressing their joined hands on each exhalation.

Focusing on the graceful fingers curled within his palm, he tried his best to ignore the desire that was pooling low in his belly.

"C'mon, I keep all the stuff you need in the bathroom."

Miaka nodded agreement and allowed herself to be led out of the room, her hand still cradled in his.

* * *

After they had exited the kitchen, Miaka found herself in the hardwood floored hallway, the walls of which she saw held a number of framed photographs. She barely got a glimpse of them, however, as Dante quickly pulled her along and into what turned out to be a large bathroom. Her eyes opened wide as she admired her surroundings.

The late afternoon sunlight streamed in from a skylight, washing the terra cotta floor and adobe wall tiles in a warm burnish of bronze and gold. A long counter ran along one wall, containing an assortment of Aloe Vera plants, two sinks and a vanity, above which hung an a open shelved wooden cupboard full of fluffy towels and assorted toiletries. A toilet was tucked away behind a half wall of glass blocks in one corner, along with a enclosed shower. Opposite them, a four person oval Jacuzzi sat beneath a copper and bronze wall fountain sculpted to resemble a fan.

"It's an oasis!" She breathed, eyes shining. "It's the most beautiful bathroom I've ever seen!"

"Thank you," He replied, charmed by her enthusiasm.

As Dante released her hand and went to retrieve the first aid items from a nearby cupboard, Miaka turned to watch him, fascinated by the rolling of his hips as he walked, and the smooth rippling motion of his shoulders when he reached for an item. She averted her gaze when he turned towards her, watching his long fingered, strong-looking hands as they set a bottle of peroxide, a tube of antibiotic ointment, and a box of band aids down on the counter beside her. He went to get the chair from the vanity and then sat down, beckoning her to come closer.

Miaka extended her hand and stared at the top of her host's fiery head as he cleaned her wound, feeling her skin tingle wherever he happened to touch her. She was growing warmer and warmer, and it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. From the very moment she had met him, he had had this effect on her; the possible consequences both worried and thrilled her.

"There you go. All done, and I think you're going to live!" Dante joked, as he smoothed the ends of the band-aid into place.

"Thank you so much. You make a good Doctor."

He chuckled. "Don't thank me yet. It's gonna be sore, like a really bad paper cut. You don't want to be handling hot peppers or anything acidic."

"I have a good tolerance for pain." Miaka told him, thinking that was an understatement. "I'll wear gloves at work. As long as I can grip a utensil I'll be fine."

"Thatta girl. Positive thinking is the way to go." Dante said, and lifted his head to smile at her.

As their eyes met and held, his smile faded and his grasp on her tightened.

"Dammit, don't look at me like that." He said throatily.

She didn't fight the impulse to brush back the strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes. "Why? How am I looking at you?"

His gaze was steady and very, very serious. "Like ya want me as bad as I want you."

She breathed in, enjoying the scent of his body as she slowly tipped her head forward.

Her hair spilled over her shoulders, forming silken curtains for the sides of her face. Dante's eyes darkened as the tips of the soft strands brushed his cheeks. He let go of her hand and snaked his arms around her waist.

"Is our wanting each other a bad thing?" She asked, fingering the end of the flame colored braid resting on the top of his shoulder.

"Not bad, just kinda dangerous at this point." He replied in a somber tone. "It's too damn soon for us to take that step, no matter if it feels like we're ready to take it." A taut smile touched his lips. "I'm not a very patient guy, but I'm willin' to be one for you. It would _kill_ me if I pushed ya into doin' somethin' that might end up making ya sorry you met me."

"I could never be sorry I met you." She informed him passionately.

"You say that now." His arms loosened, and his hands moved to grip the sides of her waist as if ready to push her away, then lingered as if to prove they could just as easily pull her against him, if that was what she desired. "But you don't know that much about me."

Miaka stared down at him, wanting to tell him it wasn't too soon for her because she knew all she needed to know, that she was sure of who he was as a person, and already had a very personal connection with him. But what would that accomplish at this point? He wouldn't understand what she meant, and trying to explain it before he was ready to hear the story would make the situation even more complicated than it was.

For his sake, it was best that she not jump into anything.

But knowing that didn't make it any easier to back out of Dante's embrace.

"Guess it's back to the kitchen for me, then." She said, in as chipper a tone as she could manage. "If I don't get going on supper, we won't be eating until midnight!"

She had turned and was halfway to the door when she heard a muttered curse.

A hand encircled her wrist and halted her progress. She barely had time to gasp before she was spun around and pulled against a hard and unyielding body in one fluid motion.

In the next moment, Dante's mouth came crashing down on hers. Helpless in the onslaught, her lips parted to receive the passionate thrust of his tongue into her mouth. She moaned, leaned against him to maintain balance on her wobbly legs. Strong hands began to move over her back, shaping and molding her as she clasped her arms around his neck. The flames of desire were burning hot, and she gladly let them consume her, welcoming Dante's tongue with swipes and forays of her own.

The pleasure of tasting him was too much, was more than she could endure without wanting more...

She felt a hard burgeoning at the front of his cutoffs and pushed her pelvis against it, all the while basking in the knowledge that she was the cause and focus of that reaction. His hips thrust forward in response and his restless hands roamed from her back to her sides, where they paused, letting the warmth of his palms soak through her t-shirt. Then they began to stroke along the length of her rib cage, his thumbs stopping just short of touching the undersides of her breasts. She wiggled impatiently, and then gasped as a muscular thigh slipped between hers and pressed against the apex of her legs. Intense sensation arrowed through her, bringing with it the need to touch bare flesh.

Unwinding one arm from around Dante's neck, she ran her hand over his chest and down to the exposed part of his stomach. A first tentative touch found that his skin was sleek and warm; the next made the lingering discovery that the muscles lying beneath it were ripped and forceful.

Dante inhaled sharply as his abdominals quivered and flexed under her fingers' shy exploration; his hands stilled, then tightened their hold on her sides as her caresses became more provocative.

When the pad of her thumb slowly circled his navel, his control snapped. A low, hungry growl emitted from the depths of his throat; his mouth widened and ground down on hers while one large hand lifted to cup her breast. Miaka gasped, delighed by the surge of new sensations that his caresses were invoking as her own hand slid daringly lower down his torso.

* * *

As questing fingers reached the area just above his erection, Dante groaned and tensed. He had thought that he could keep passion in check, but he had failed to take into account that Miaka might touch him intimately, and that when she did, it would push him straight to the edge.

It was now or never. If he allowed her hand to reach its intended target, he'd end up taking her on a cold, hard bathroom floor- not a setting he'd care for her to remember when thinking of their first time together.

With a superhuman effort, he dragged his mouth away from the intoxicating sweetness of hers; drawing in deep, gasping breaths, he reached for her wandering hand and unwrapped her arm from around his neck. Her whimpers of protest faded as he grasped both of her hands in his and then lifted each to his lips, pressing warm, soothing kisses into their backs, palms, and on the tips of each finger in turn.

"Ya see what I mean? Better haul that cute lil' tush outta here before I forget how to be a gentleman." His breath came in hot, heavy pants against her fingers. Sexual hunger glittered in his eyes, along with a warning that said this was not a time for her to argue or test his control.

With a small nod, Miaka slowly pulled her hands from his. After a final, lingering look back at him over one shoulder, she turned and left the room.

When he was sure she wasn't going to return, Dante moved to the nearest sink, turned on the cold water, and splashed liberal handfuls from the flow upon the heated skin of his face and throat. Once he felt he had cooled down sufficiently, he reached for a towel. While drying his face, he stared hard at his reflection in the large mirror that ran almost the entire length of one wall.

"Keep it in your pants," he said to himself, grimacing at the state of his hardened gender. "an' make sure it stays there until she decides whether it's you or him. No regrets; just keep actin' like the gentleman your Mama raised ya to be, and everything will turn out fine."

The flame-haired image nodded approvingly back at him, but looked just as unconvinced as he felt.

* * *

Miaka sat back and drank in Dante's features over the rim of her wineglass as he regaled her with stories about his childhood, his family, and the events leading to his move to Colorado Springs.

His noticeable surprise and pleasure at her eagerness to hear his life story had made her wonder if his old girlfriend Sandra had ever bothered to get to know him at all. Therefore, she had made a point of hanging on his every word at dinner and afterwards- not that it had been a difficult task. She enjoyed watching him and listening to the sound of his voice, which was just as expressive and sexy as the rest of him.

They had decided to eat at the oak plank table in the kitchen. Dante had dug up two mismatched tapered candles and they had stuck them in a couple of old wine bottles. Even though the sun was just beginning to set, he had lit them. Then he had laughed as he had brought out his dishes, telling Miaka that the orange and lime colored stoneware set had been hand thrown, painted and baked by one of his sisters, an amateur artist going through a '70's retro phase'. She had laughed along with him, but secretly thought it was very sweet that Dante actually used the garish, slightly misshapen plates, especially when his sister had no way of knowing if he didn't.

The kitchen itself was a dream. Large and airy with plenty of cupboard space, it had a look reminiscent of the old southwest, complete with a wooden beamed, vaulted ceiling, and beautifully tiled counters. If the décor a person chose for a certain room was an true indicator of their personality, then Miaka would have immediately guessed Dante to be a hospitable and easy-going person.

She smiled at him as she set down her glass. "So tell me more about your mother. She must be quite a woman to raise six children all on her own."

Dante nodded. "She sure is, but she wasn't entirely on her own all that time. About three years after my dad died, she met Gabe. To hear her talk about how they met, it was as if it were meant to be." His tone warmed with affection. "Gabe's a great guy and stepdad. He makes my mom happy, and he loved us like we were his own kids…which was pretty remarkable considerin' some of the shit we put him through at first."

"It sounds like you have a close family. You must miss them."

"Yeah, but we all get together at least once a year. Mom and Gabe are retired now and bought one of those huge RVs. The whole family comes up here for a reunion week. There's usually a big barbeque the last day they're here."

"That sounds wonderful! " Miaka exclaimed. "Keisuke and I used to have fun going to the park near my school for picnics! Even after he was at university we'd get together there at least once a month, no matter what time of the year it was!"

"Sounds fun." Dante said tersely. "Who's the guy?"

Miaka looked askance at him, wondering what on earth she had said to bring on his sudden coolness.

She found her answer in his tight expression and unblinking glare.

"Keisuke?" Hiding her amusement that he would be jealous of her sibling was difficult, but she managed. "He's my older brother."

"Oh." Dante looked away, but visibly relaxed. "Any other siblings besides your big brother?"

"No, it's just been Keisuke and me, since our parents split up when I was four. My dad kept up his visitation rights with us for the year after the divorce, but then he remarried and we never saw him after that. Mom pretty much raised us by herself."

"Divorce is tough on kids."

"Yes, but also for a single parent." Miaka said. "I realize that now. As hard as it was dealing with mom at times, she always did her best for us. I was worried about her being alone after I left home, but it turns out that she's met a man, someone really nice, and things have turned out fine." She smiled wistfully. "As much as I adore Keisuke, it would be nice to have a little sister. It must be wonderful to be a part of a big, loving family like yours, Dante."

"Yeah, it's pretty nice." He agreed. "But like I said at lunch, it has its drawbacks too-a total lack of privacy for one! Imagine me trying to get some quality bathroom time in a household of hormonal teenage women! After going through that phase, trainin' to become a cop seemed like a picnic!"

Miaka laughed. "I can imagine that must have been kind of difficult."

"It was a damn war zone!" Dante leaned forward to pick up his glass of wine and took a deep swallow. "The way Ma tells it, I'm lucky I even made it to sixteen!"

Still giggling, Miaka reached for her glass, but her hand froze in midair at seeing a bright flash of crimson from Dante's forearm as he lifted the glass to his lips. Her mouth fell open as she spotted the brilliantly colored mark in the same location that Tasuki's seishi symbol had been.

Quickly regaining her composure, she asked him with forced calm, "Is that a tattoo you have on your arm?"

Dante glanced down. "Yeah." After setting his glass back on the table, he ran his fingers over the mark on his arm."Had it for so long, I sometimes forget it's showing."

"Would you mind if I took a closer look?"

"Not at all." He held the arm out for her inspection.

Hardly daring to believe her eyes, Miaka pulled his arm to within an inch of her nose as she studied the intricate tattoo which she now saw was of a phoenix. The radiant red and orange hues of the bird and the long shimmering tail reminded her strongly of the god Suzaku in his animal form. Enthralled, she traced over the design with a forefinger, oblivious to the shiver that passed through Dante in response to the soft caress.

"This is exquisite workmanship!" She stated, trying hard to sound as though her heart wasn't pounding with excitement. Why hadn't she noticed it before?

Dante leaned closer and studied the tattoo, trying to see what he usually took for granted from her point of view. "It's not too shabby as tattoos go, I guess," he agreed modestly.

"The colors are so vivid! " She marveled. "It almost looks like it's alive!"

"Yeah, that's kind of a weird thing about it." He agreed. "I was told that tattoos start to fade over time but this one's stayed as bright as it was the day my bandage first came off." He hesitated, then continued as if unable to help himself. "And I know this is probably going to sound bizarre, but sometimes it seems that there are times where it gets even brighter, almost like it's glowing." His smile was self-conscious, his attitude defensive. "Of course no one else I've asked to look at it has seen it. It's probably just my overactive imagination, like they say."

Miaka shook her head. "I don't think it's your imagination. In fact, I noticed just a minute ago that it seemed to flash, and it's getting even brighter now! Look!"

She traced the outline of the tattoo with a finger, and the bird's colors intensified beneath her touch.

"Wow." Dante breathed. "How did you do that?"

"It's my special magic!" She teased.

He laughed. "That's as good an explanation as any!"

"Why did you choose a phoenix?" She asked, tracing over the bird's form once again.

"I've always been fascinated with Mythology." Dante said, his defensiveness was dissolving under her touch and the scope of her interest. "The phoenix happens to be my favorite legendary creature. I always liked that it's a survivor- that no matter how many times it gets burnt by life, it always rises again with renewed hope and courage."

_Like you once did, dear one._ Miaka thought, as she reluctantly released his arm."Did getting it hurt much?"

"It depends how you define much." Dante rubbed a hand over the tattoo with a rueful laugh. "Let's just say that I wish I'd asked beforehand if it would hurt like the devil!"

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah. At first anyway- after a while I think the nerves overloaded or somethin', because I didn't feel the stick of the needle as much."

"Why did you choose to put it on your forearm?" She tried to be nonchalant in asking, but eagerly awaited the reply.

"It made it easier for me to flaunt it in front of Ma." He laughed at the memory. "I was a seriously rebellious seventeen year old, and had the idea that gettin' a tattoo without permission would prove to Ma that I was independent of her. A friend of mine helped me snag a fake ID and then I headed straight for the nearest tattoo parlor!"

Miaka smirked. "I don't suppose you gave any thought to it being permanent?"

"Nope! As usual, I acted rashly." His grin was unrepentant. "That's a trait of mine that hasn't improved with age, but without it, I wouldn't had the guts to go for the finest treasure I've ever found!"

"That's wonderful!" He was happy, and that made her happy. "So what was it?"

"More like, _who_ was it, and where has she been all my life?"

He waited as she thought about it, and grinned when he saw comprehension dawning in her expression.

"Ah. I see. " She smiled and wanted to say she felt the same about him, but the glint in his eyes was the kind that meant it was safer to change the subject. "Did you want some help cleaning up?"

Rising as she spoke, she began stacking their plates.

"Hold it!"

She froze in place at his command.

"Sit down, please. You did all the cookin', so it's only fair that I do the cleanin'- hey!" Dante exclaimed, as she resumed stacking the rest of the plates. "Why aren't you listenin' to me?"

She picked up the plates. "Sorry, no time to chat. I'm busy clearing the table."

It tickled her to no end to know she'd gotten the best of him, but her snicker at his sigh of aggravation changed to a gasp as she turned too quickly towards the kitchen and the plates unexpectedly shifted, putting direct and severe pressure on her injured finger.

"Miaka!"

Dante leapt to his feet, coming up behind her in record time. Unfortunately, she chose that very moment to turn back to face him.

Their bodies collided with a sickening clatter of stoneware. Dante instinctively grabbed her arms to keep her from falling, and then watched in bemused horror as the plates tilted back into her body and their leftover contents splattered onto her chest.

Miaka quickly righted the tipped plates, and then stared down at the gravy, mashed potatoes, salad dressing and leftover roast beef au jus that had been plastered down the front of her favorite T-shirt.

Slowly, she raised her embarrassed gaze to her host.

"Criminy, what a mess!" Dante's voice shook with suppressed laughter as he took quick glances from her expression to her food laden chest and back again. "Sorry about that."

Her eyes narrowed in mock suspicion. "Are you really? Before you answer, let me remind you that as a policeman, you're under oath to tell the truth!"

"Good point." He acknowledged cheerfully. "And I refuse to answer the question on the grounds that it might incriminate me."

"You're fortunate that I'm a guest in your home, or I would be mashing what's left on these plates all over _your _chest!"

His grin was wicked. "Hmph. Like to see ya try."

Her intent was written all over her face, but before she could act, he had grabbed the plates out of her hands. Chuckling at her sound of exasperation, he carried the stack over to the sink, snagging a hand towel that was lying on the counter next to it on his return trip to her side.

He extended it to her as if it were an olive branch.

"All kiddin' aside, use this to wipe off the gunk. I'm going to go find somethin' for you to wear so I can throw your t-shirt in the washer."

"Thank you." She accepted the peace offering, grimacing as the movement of her arm caused more food to slide off her breasts and onto the floor.

"I'm gettin' a yen for seconds," Dante said, eyeing her chest with a smirk.

She gaped at him, then scraped up a dollop of mashed potatoes that still clung to her.

"Hey now! I'm sworn to tell the truth!" He protested, then turned and beat a hasty retreat as she aimed for his back.

"Missed me, missed me, now ya gotta kiss me!" He crowed, as the food went wide of its mark and splattered on the counter.

"AS IF!" She called after him, then grinned as a gleeful chortle drifted in from the hallway. Really, the man was outrageous! She couldn't ever picture Taka indulging in this sort of horseplay!

_No dwelling on the past, Miaka_. _Live in the moment. Enjoy the present._

She set to work, using the towel to mop up the food she'd thrown. Folding it over, she then tried to wipe away the rest of the mess on her shirt, but to her annoyance, her attempts only served to smear the stain rather than remove it. In the short time it took her host to return to the kitchen with a velour robe draped over his arm, she had given up.

Dante eyed the stain, which had doubled in size, chuckled quietly, and then held the robe out to her as a peace offering when she glared at him.

"It's gonna to be way too big for ya, but it'll have to do."

"It's perfectly fine." She didn't care one whit what she'd look like in his robe. All she wanted right now was to get out of her sticky, very sodden t-shirt and dampened bra. "I can always roll up the sleeves."

"You know where the bathroom is, right? Or ya can even change in my room if ya want- it's the door at the very end of the hall." Dante continued, as she snatched the robe from his outstretched hand. "Make sure to holler 911 if you need any assistance."

The mischief dancing in his eyes belied the seriousness in his voice.

"A kind offer, but I think I can manage," She informed him in a snooty tone. 'Thank you anyway."

"No need for thanks, ma'am. As a public servant, it's my sworn duty to help the unfortunate!"

She snorted. "Yes, well, for your information, Officer Helpful, removing a lady's clothing is above and beyond the call of duty!"

His uninhibited laughter followed her as she strode out of the kitchen. Once out of sight, Miaka broke into a goofy grin, thinking how good hearing that sound made her feel inside.

But as she headed down the hallway, her light hearted mood soon changed to one of sober caution. After a pause and short contemplation of her options for a changing room, she set a course for the bathroom instead of the door at the end of the hall.

As curious as she might be to see what it looked like, she was certain that undressing in Dante's bedroom would present temptations that would be far too great for her to resist.

**To be continued….**

**All Reviewers will be given the chapeau of their choice and a place of honor at the Phoenix Imperial banquet.**


	7. Chapter Seven

**Leather and Lace**

_(Disclaimer: Fushigi Yûgi is owned by Watase Yû, Shogakukan Comics, Pierrot Studios, TV Tokyo and Pioneer! However, we do claim the rights to the original elements of this story, and the present lives of any original characters that may appear in this story. Anyone attempting to fold, spindle or otherwise subvert the results of our fanfic creativity will meet with a smiting by Hotohori and his holy sword._

_**Warning: Sensual and strong language. **_

**Chapter Seven **

When Miaka left the room, Dante set about clearing the last of the dirty dishes from the table. If alone, hey would have left them sitting in the sink until the next morning, but if he did that now Miaka would certainly insist upon doing them when she returned. There was no way he'd allow _that_ after she had cooked for him.

The food had been excellent. It was hard to believe that her cooking faults might have been as bad as she'd described, but if they were, she'd totally overcome them. She clearly loved what she did, and as fun as it was watching her prepare his meal, the gusto with which she consumed her supper really made him grin. It was pretty amazing to see that someone that petite could tuck away that much food, but he appreciated her healthy appetite after numerous occasions of dining with females that made a big show about ordering salads, while expecting to pilfer food off _his _plate.

Swatting away memories of past dates gone bad, Dante opened the door of the dishwasher and dropped in a detergent tab, then turned on the faucet before beginning the mindless chore of scraping, rinsing and loading. He didn't mind it for once, because it allowed him to think about what has transpired since Miaka's unannounced appearance on his doorstep.

He had always made a point of discouraging women he was seeing on a social basis from dropping in. This was his private refuge, and he refused to share it with those he damn well knew were prowlers, only interested in him for his body or what favors he could do for them as a cop. It was surprising (and somewhat depressing) to find how many females fell into that category. Sandra had been the only one worht having . But even then he hadn't exactly rolled out the red carpet.

Dante's hands stilled under the running water as he acknowledged his not trying to fix the problem, despite knowing that Sandy hadn't felt as comfortable staying with him as she had hosting him in her own home, is what made it damn significant that he had welcomed Miaka's unannounced visit to his hideaway with enthusiasm, and likewise a first for him to be this happy that she felt comfortable enough to raid his refrigerator, cook a meal, share it and his booze, and then have a food fight while unabashedly giving him crap in his own home.

He'd always preferred women with a sense of humor. Sandy had had one in that she liked watching comedies and going to comedy clubs. But when it came to laughing about personal stuff, not so much. She laughed at the comedians' jokes about others, but she had made it clear she didn't want to be teased or pranked herself. She took herself seriously and expected to be treated that way.

Having fun with Sandy was having fun in the third person. Fun with Miaka was different. She didn't have a problem poking fun at herself or getting downright silly when the opportunity was presented. She could tease him as good as she got teased, even when he'd deliberately tried to fluster her. And damn if she didn't fluster him too!

_That _was having fun in the first person.

As long as he was making comparisons, there were other noteable differences in his behavior in regards to his present companion . When Sandy had emphatically told him that she'd gone through enough drama in her failed marriage that grand romantic gestures and emotional declarations left her cold, he'd toned down his exuberant personality to a more sedate level to keep things on an emotionally even keel for her. His reward for trying to please was to lose to the exact opposite of what she had told him she'd wanted from him. He could have shown her just how much he'd been holding in reserve, but he had chosen not to, which meant his heart hadn't been as wounded as he thought, just his pride.

With Miaka, there would be none of that cautious, calm and rational approach- he was going after her, and had been the moment he'd set eyes on her. Doing less than his best to impress and give her his all in the romance department was not an option. He wanted to get to know her, and for her to get to know him. He would do everything he could to make his home accessible to her. He would sweep her off her feet in a way that would have her giving her bandit fantasy a paltry PG rating.

He wasn't about to let another guy show him up in that department, imaginary or real. And he sure as hell wouldn't let her be taken away without a fight.

All that certainty for a woman he'd known less than a day. Yeah, it was crazy. But so what? It was the quality of time spent that counted. Miaka laid herself out there for him to know, and in a few short hours, he could say he knew her personality far better than he'd ever known Sandy's.

Demonstrative and yet respectful; accomodating, but not a pushover. A ready acceptance of his quirks that gave assurance that he could be himself and still please her. Attentiveness and response to his changing moods made it clear his feelings truly mattered to her. Impulsiveness and a little stubborn streak that ensured there'd never be a dull moment. There was the girlish enthusiasm and inherently caring nature that gave her beauty far beyond the physical. She also had a generosity of spirit that had made a lasting impact on a certain cynical coffeehouse owner.

Dante smirked, remembering his friend's astonishment and muttered comment after Miaka had paid for their lunches and left a huge gratuity in the tip jar.

"_Tager, ya got yerself an honest-to-god sweetheart here! Fuck this up and I'll be kickin' yer ass an' stealin' yer girl!" _

Having that resounding stamp of approval from his best friend carried a lot of weight, and underscored his own instincts about the situation. If his mother were here, she would probably have added that how long you knew a person didn't matter if they turned out to be your soulmate. Everything would fall into place.

A soulmate.

That would certainly explain his instant and uncontrollable attraction to Miaka Yuuki.

It was just cursed bad luck that someone else had got to her first.

With a scowl, Dante finished loading the last of the plates and silverware as his thoughts focused on his competition.

He supposed he should be feeling guilty for sniffing around another man's woman, even when the guy wasn't appreciative of the living treasure he had right under his nose. It was pretty obvious the dumbass had no clue as to what his kind of neglect was doing to the relationship! Or maybe he didn't care! Maybe he had someone else on the side!

Slamming the door to the dishwasher, he jabbed at its control panel settings with unwarranted force.

_If that's the deal, if he's been cheating on her, I'll find him an' kick his sorry ass!_

The notion put a ferocious smile on his face until somehing occurred to him.

_How can I kick the guy's ass for cheatin' on her when I'm goin' after Miaka behind his back_?

A muscle tightened the back of his neck, and Dante lifted a hand to rub the cramp away, knowing it was a manifestation of strong and conflicting emotions. He'd always thought of himself as an upstanding guy, playing by a code of honor in regards to other guys' girls. Until now, it had been pretty damn easy to follow that code until he'd met the woman who made him question all he thought he knew about himself.

He was taking advantage of a troubled relationship to advance his cause with Miaka. He hated the thought of seeing her on the sly, but was willing to do it. He resented that she and her boyfriend shared a history that he could only dream of, hated that the guy had been her first love. He wasn't above using Miaka's clear attraction to him and his experience in fueling those kinds of feelings to outdo the guy in the romance department, even though he knew her sense of duty and her loyalty to the man made him a formidable and possibly unbeatable rival.

Miaka was a woman struggling with reconciling feelings for a past love with her desire for something different. He'd already been down this road. It had ended badly- for him. No matter how cute, sexy and loveable she was, Miaka could be a source of biggest heartbreak in his life.

It was better to get out. Right now, without delay, before he got so deeply involved he wouldn't have the choice.

___It's already too late, fool! _His heart sneered. You'd_ be down on one knee in a minute if ya thought there was any chance she'd say yes! _

_Fine._ Dante thought. _It's too late. Then what do I have to lose by sticking with it?_ He would simply enjoy being with her and the powerful feelings she instilled whenever she was in his arms. The instant connection he felt with her was one of those that happened once in a lifetime. Something extraordinary. Something that was not to be missed, and for which the cost for walking away would be too great a price to pay.

He would have called it fate, but that would imply previous knowledge of her existence. In his twenty eight years of life he had never traveled abroad, and Miaka had only been in the States for six months, so there was no way they could have met before. And yet, he wasn't able to get over the feeling that he had known her well and way before today, even though that wasn't possible. Knowing it was didn't do a damn thing to discourage the feeling that because of meeting her, he had rediscovered a part of his life that he hadn't been aware was missing.

His dream woman. Was it possible to be in love with someone _before_ you knew they really existed? He had always joked about his mother's staunch belief in reincarnation, but he was starting to wonder if that belief had some serious merit. What else could explain the instant rapport he shared with Miaka, and the familiarity of the feelings he had experienced the moment they had laid eyes on each other? In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the notion that his and Miaka's souls had been destined to meet and merge. Over and over, without end.

God, how he wanted that.

He had always possessed a healthy sex drive, and he'd always been been in absolute control of it. But not now. Not when the mere thought of her changing clothes under his roof had him panting like a wolf on the prowl, a wolf that would be hers for life once she allowed him to mount her.

A soft groan rose to his lips as he tried to suppress the fantasy that idea provoked. But trying not to think about Miaka like that was like trying to keep the sun from rising in the east. With a small sigh, he closed his eyes and let a bevy of erotic visions of Miaka fill his mind.

He was in the midst of imagining her nude and lying on his kitchen table, moaning in pleasure as he licked along the trail of honey he'd just drizzled over her abdome,n when the sound of his name broke his concentration. He jerked in surprise, then swung around to face the star of his fantasy, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen wearing a sheepish smile and looking lost his robe. The oversized garment made her look like a girlish waif in big brother's clothing instead of the highly desirable woman she was. That was a good thing, given his body's present state of response to his fantasy.

Thinking it safe, he let his gaze drift to the crossed lapels of the robe, and promptly tossed out the waif the_ory_. The neckline was cut for a man, and even when pulled tight, the opening showcased the sweet inner curves of her breasts.

His arousal was going into overdrive at the sight.

Pressing himself into the counter, he cast a wild glance around him for the extra large dishtowel and grabbed it up. "Hi. You're back."

"Yes." She watched him with an unreadable expression. "Did I startle you?"

"A little." He said, avoiding looking directly at her as he began to dry his hands.

"I'm sorry."

Her tone held true regret, and he forced himself to give her an unconcerned smile even as his hidden arousal continued to surge upwards. "Not a problem. It's my fault. I was thinkin' and not payin' attention." Yes, that was it- abstract thinking got him into this, and linear thinking would get him out! His brain rose to the challenge, silently shouting out questions that would hopefully distract him from carnality.

_What's the capital of Uzbekistan? What's the name of the largest lake in Africa? Who invented the toilet? Why is root beer called that when there's no beer in it? What does the 'J' in Homer J. Simpson stand for? Why do people drive in a parkway, and park in a driveway?_

"They must have been very interesting thoughts." Miaka said. She sounded bemused, but her expression was the kind girls reserved for boys that had gotten caught with a hand in the cookie jar and were trying to fib their way out of trouble.

He did his best to look nonchalant_. Innocent until proven guilty. Just gotta keep her distracted long enough that she won't notice._ "Why do ya say that?"

Her smile widened. "You were just standing there, staring off into space and grinning like a fox in a house filled with chickens."

His laugh sounded as uneasy as he felt. _Shit. Damage control. I'm going to have to own up to some of it. _Folding the dish towel, he began wiping down the countertop with unnecessary thoroughness, buying more time for his erection to subside. _The best defense is a good offense!_ _Think about Great Grandpa with a big old plug of chaw, hawkin' loogies__ an' yelling for tea an' stewed prunes! _

It was working.

"Dante?"

_"_Okay, Miaka, I admit it. Ya caught me in a daydream._"_

He could sense her surprise at his abrupt confession. It made him feel better and more in control.

"Dante Tager has just admitted to me that he was daydreaming." She repeated, sounding incredulous.

Thoughts of his great grandpa had done it. He finally felt able to toss aside the towel as he turned to face his inquisitor.

"Yeah. Hard to believe, isn't it?"

* * *

Ripples of excitement teased Miaka's insides as Dante leaned his backside against the edge of the counter and crossed his arms. The pose emphasized his chest and biceps and caused the cropped t-shirt he wore to ride up, exposing the hard, flat surface of the abdomen that had flexed beneath the caresses of her hand.

It was more than a little shocking that a mere glimpse of his flesh could instantly get her hot and bothered.

The way he was eyeing her made her very aware that she was half naked under his robe. Her hands slid to the sash, making sure that the knot she had tied was still intact and secure. Dante's gaze followed the gesture, then met hers once more.

"So was it a good daydream, I hope?" She asked, trying to sound conversational.

"The best." He drawled.

She was curious. "What made it so good?" She asked on impulse, then backtracked. "That is, if you don't mind-"

"You were in it."

She stared at him, speechless. The silence stretched as Dante pushed himself away from the sink and walked towards her. His gait was slow and deliberate-almost predatory, she thought a bit wildly.

He stopped right in front of her, standing so close that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. It occurred to her that even at this close proximity, even if she stood on tip toe, she wouldn't be able to kiss him unless he lowered his head to accommodate her.

Her body tingled with anticipation as he reached out to tug the t-shirt away from her unresisting fingers.

"You don't have to do that." She protested in a weak voice, as he turned the garment inside out and then tossed it over one broad shoulder.

His smile was a danger to her equilibrium. "Are ya talkin' about the t-shirt or telling you my daydream?"

She gave an unsteady giggle. "Both, I guess."

"No guessin' about it. I don't do anythin' I don't feel like doin', Miaka."

His expression had changed to one of intent. Desire unfurled within her as he stroked back the curtain of hair covering her cheek, tucking it gently behind her ear.

"And right now, I'm damn sure that I wanna do this. So here's a little demonstration of what I was thinkin' about…"

She inhaled sharply as he bent his head to the sensitive hollow below her ear lobe and began to nuzzle it with his lips. His breath was hot against her skin. Her eyelashes lowered. As his mouth trailed down and then up along the curve of her neck, her lips parted and her breathing grew harsh.

When he reached her ear and traced the outer rim with his tongue tip, her fingers curled into her palms. At the gentle nip of a fang upon her ear lobe, heat exploded in her belly. With a frantic moan, she turned her head, seeking a kiss that never came.

"I think that's enough for ya to get the idea." Dante said hoarsely.

Her eyelids flew open and she stared at him.

"I told ya not to look at me like that!" He growled.

She looked away. "I can't seem to help it."

He reached out to brush his knuckles across her cheek in a rough caress. "You are so goddamned beautiful."

The curse sounded reverent rather than profane.

"Th-thank you." She stammered, still avoiding his eyes. It was good he had been able to put a stop to things right then, because she couldn't have done it to save her life. The man standing before her was a craving that she couldn't control. When he touched her, all that mattered was having his hands and his mouth on her body.

Alarmed by the thought, she took a step back from temptation, only to have her backside bump into the doorframe. Embarrassed, she risked a glance at Dante, wondering why he had remained silent. To her surprise, he was staring at her pink polished toenails, apparently too transfixed by the sight of them to tease her for her clumsiness.

"I-I hope you don't mind that I'm barefoot." She explained awkwardly. "My socks got some gravy on them."

Dante looked up, and the masculine appreciation shining in his eyes made her glad she had taken the extra time to put on the polish before leaving the apartment.

"I have no problem whatsoever with havin' your sexy, bare little feet pitty-pattin' around my house."

"Thank you." She murmured. "Thanks for taking care of my mess, too."

"It's the least I could do, seein' that it was mostly my doing." A small smile tugged at his lips. "Why don't ya go on into the livin' room and make yourself comfortable? I'll only be a couple of minutes to throw this in the wash."

* * *

As soon as Dante had left her, Miaka slumped back against the doorframe and tried to compose herself. She felt deliciously wobbly and weak, the lingering effect of his touch and the intoxicating realization that he had been daydreaming about her _in that way. _

A roguish smile tipped up the corners of her mouth. If the fantasy had anything to do with them being in a kitchen, it was probably along the lines of what _she'd _been imagining while she was making him dinner!

But her smile faded as she felt the ache of unfulfilled desire. It was both exhilarating and scary to acknowledge her sexual feelings for Dante, and disturbing as well that she'd already been unfaithful to Taka in her thoughts and that guilt over that still had yet to manifest...

_Know yourself and then overcome yourself. _

Words from the past that applied to the present. There was nothing bad in being honest about wanting Dante. But it would be wrong to begin an actual relationship before she had resolved things with Taka.

Untying the robe's sash, Miaka pulled the lapels across her chest and then retied the knot, yanking it tight in a defensive gesture against the arousal that lingered and pulsed. It was time to move to safer ground; hopefully a change of venue would keep her from giving in the demands of her flesh.

* * *

She headed out of the kitchen and into the spacious living area that she had passed earlier with barely a glance. There were two steps down into the room, which she carefully negotiated before pausing to survey it. She admired everything; the vaulted ceiling, the southwestern style paintings on the wall, the masculine, comfortable looking leather furniture, the polished hardwood floor, and numerous framed drawings done in crayon, obviously rendered by a child's hands. A happy smile came to her lips as she realized by leaving her alone to look, Dante was giving her free access to knowledge of his personal life.

Gliding to one side of the room, she eyed the built in, floor-to-ceiling oak bookshelves that ran almost the entire length of the wall. A section in the middle was customized for a big screen television and complete stereo set-up, and another small section contained a couple of formal group photographs of uniformed cops. The vast majority of shelf space, however, was devoted to all kinds of books. Her hand rose to trail along the spines as she read them, amazed at the diversity of subject matter they displayed, ranging from poetry to criminal justice and history to mythology, as well as best selling fiction of all kinds.

A collection of compact disks also resided on half of one long shelf, and Miaka noticed immediately that Dante's taste in music was as eclectic as his taste in books. The discovery pleased her; she had always strongly suspected that beneath Tasuki's brash exterior lurked a sharp intellect and poetic soul that would have appeared sooner or later if given the right encouragement. The huge selections of music and literature Dante had housed on his shelves good as confirmed her theory.

Moving along, she stopped in the corner for a close up view of the huge gas fireplace framed by rough hewn stones, and continued on to the huge picture window. A cool breeze told her the side panels were open, and she could tell the temperature outside was dropping, so she didn't linger, only pausing long enough to stare admiringly out at the shadow darkened Rocky Mountains before going to find a place to sit down.

She was immediately drawn to the sofa and sat, finding it even more comfortable than the one she'd sat on at the coffee house. Her lazy gaze took in the coffee table. The confusing assortment of remote controls lined up on the coffee table in front of her made her chuckle, and she made a mental note to purchase a universal remote for Dante at the first excuse she had for giving him a gift.

Having made this decision, she snuggled deeply into the cushions and closed her eyes in contentment. If only the night would last forever...

* * *

Dante paused before descending the steps to the living room, taking a moment to let his gaze travel over the woman who in one short day had managed to turn his life upside down. His position allowed him to observe her without being seen, and he intended to take full advantage of it.

Pleasure filled him as he saw that she was curled up on one end of his old couch, feet tucked underneath her, looking as comfortable as could be. He took in the delicate line of her profile- lingering on the full curves of her lips- then tensed when his eyes lowered to her décolletage. _Shit, they're just about to fall out of that thing! Not like I'd mind, but it'd be embarrassin' for her!_

With an effort he tore his eyes away from the sight and thumped back into the kitchen for the wine glasses that he had forgotten on the kitchen table. Hopefully if he made enough noise, she'd awaken and change position when he was gone.

In spite of the thudding elephant steps he took to the kitchen and back, she hadn't moved when he returned. With a sigh of resignation, he walked to the couch and gently nudged her leg with his to get her attention. As turned on as he was by her state of undress, he still couldn't help but laugh when her eyes flew open in alarm.

"Don't get up." He said. "You're givin' a compliment to my decoratin' when you look relaxed."

Miaka smiled and took the wine glass he held out, then moved to make room for him. Dante sat down and heaved a mental sigh of relief as he saw her adjusting the robe so that it fully covered her chest. "So I take it you're likin' my sofa?"

"Very much. " She grabbed an errant throw pillow and tucked it under her elbow. "It's even more comfortable than the one Craig has at Brew You!"

Dante grinned. "Thank you kindly ma'am! It's good to know ya feel that way, considering Craig thinks his is the best ever. "

She laughed, then looked a bit worried. "Maybe we shouldn't tell him. I don't want to hurt his feelings."

"Good point." Dante said, thinking Miaka being on his sofa was the real secret, and there was no way he'd hand his buddy that kind of ammunition until he was ready to show proof of a solid relationship. "Yeah, I won't say anythin'. It's enough for me to know."

"You're a good friend." Miaka said, smiling.

He basked in her approval until he saw her shiver. "Hey! Are you cold?"

"No!" She denied quickly.

He grabbed her free hand. "It's like ice." He accused. "You're cold."

"Maybe a little." She admitted, looking sheepish as Dante set his glass down and stood up. "You would think I would have adjusted to the temperature drops by now."

"Hang on. I'll close the windows and get a fire goin'."

He suited his actions to his words as he spoke, moving over to the side windows to slide them shut, and then walking over to twist the knob next to the fireplace to turn on the gas fire. The realistic looking birch logs behind the glass doors flickered to life, suffusing the room with a subtle but pleasant glow. Miaka took another sip of her wine and heaved a blissful sigh as warmth began to encompass her. "Thank you, Dante. That's a lovely fireplace."

"I wish it was a real one, but gas is cleaner and more convenient," he replied, picking up his wine glass and re-joining her on the couch.

"Any kind of fireplace is fine with me." She responded with enthusiasm. "And I'm definitely in love with your living room! It's beautiful _and _comfortable- much more so than mine!" Her smile held a hint of wistfulness as she confided, "my apartment came fully furnished, but I don't think the decorator put much thought into the tenant's feeling at home when they were choosing some of the furniture."

"That's too bad." Dante murmured politely, but didn't expect an answer as he watched Miaka look around the room once more. When she turned her attention back to him, he could see the questions in her eyes. And he was surprisingly willing to answer as soon as she asked them.

That feeling was definitely a first for him.

"It's funny," she mused, "that just when I think I have you figured out, I discover new and interesting things."

"Really?" He challenged her with his smile. "What would those be?"

Miaka ticked off the points on her fingers. "The variety and amount of books you have shows me that you're an insatiable reader with an inquisitive mind and well developed intellect. The framed photos show you like outdoor recreations, and the children's drawings reveal a sentimental streak a mile wide. The CD's tell me you love all kinds of music, and the stunning view outside your window along with your incredibly comfortable couch, and the stocked entertainment center tells me that you like to spend a lot of time relaxing at home." She laughed softly at his dumbfounded expression. "How am I doing so far?"

"Dead right on all counts," he admitted. "But please keep it quiet, okay? If the guys find out that I'm a sentimental, egg-headed homebody instead of the outrageous, fun-lovin' party animal they think I am now, I'll never hear the end of it!"

"I can keep a secret. They won't be hearing it from me!"

He smiled as she made criss-crossing motions over her heart. "Thanks. It's sorta hard to explain, but in my line of work it's real important to be able to keep your private life…well, _private._"

* * *

For a moment, Dante's face reflected some of the stress involved in his chosen occupation. Though they had different duties and careers, Miaka thought, she knew that kind of feeling all too well.

"Serving the public on a daily basis means that there's always going to be someone letting you know when you mess up, and having to accept that most of the time you won't hear a word of praise or thanks when you've done your job well. " She told him earnestly. "Getting away from everything related to the stress is important, and it's vital to have someplace you can call a sanctuary. It's easy to get burned out on life if you don't have a place all your own to relax and be happy."

"Well I'll be damned," Dante said, looking awestruck.

She blinked. "What?"

"You get it! No one else I've talked to that wasn't a cop has understood that about me!"

The frank admiration in his eyes made her blush.

"You sound like you've had some experience with it too." He said, watching her closely.

"Yes, but I think I should add that the clientele at the Phoenix Grill in no way compares to the tough customers _you_ deal with!" She replied, experiencing another thrill of pleasure as he laughed aloud.

"Yeah, sad to say we do get more than our share."

"Law enforcement isn't just about getting the bad guys though, is it?" Miaka stated. "You're role models and support for the community."

"We try." He slanted her an appreciative grin, then took another sip of wine. "It's nice knowing you're makin' a difference, but you do it knowing it _is_ a damn thankless task. You learn real quick to expect abuse from the taxpayers because they're payin' your wages, and he politicians, because they make the laws, and the powers at city hall, because losin' your temper even once means your career could be down the toilet. And let me tell ya, Miaka, it makes it even harder tryin' to do my job when I know the perpetrator's lawyer will find some loophole to circumvent the law we're trying to enforce."

"It must get very discouraging." She sympathized.

"It could, if I let it," Dante agreed. "My dad used t'tell me that part of bein' a good cop is findin' a way not to get burned out on the job. I try to follow the example he set by keepin' my personal life separate from work-which means no after hours socializin' with fellow officers." He gave her an embarrassed little half smile. "If the guys knew I'm at home most of the time they'd start droppin' by regularly for a game of poker an' a few beers, and I'd be too damn nice t'throw them out. This way, at least the ones that are married or have steady girlfriends stay far away from the singles places they think I frequent."

She shifted position, stretching her legs out in front of her. "So what about the women?"

He didn't answer right away, as he was busy watching her adjusting his robe to cover herself. "What women?"

"I assume your precinct has unmarried female officers?"

"Yeah, there's a few." He said. "And they pretty much make it a point not to date coworkers for the exact same reasons I won't."

"It would be like never leaving work?"

"Exactly!" He grimaced. "Going out with another cop, it's inevitable we'd end up talking shop. Even if we didn't, there's the problem that things could go bad with the relationship and you would still have to work together and get along. You never know when someone will have to be watchin' your back when you're out on a call." He paused to take a swallow of wine. "Personal conflict in the workplace can be pretty dangerous at a time like that."

"I can imagine," Miaka replied solemnly. "I admire that you don't let the demands of your job consume you to the exclusion of everything else. I wish that-"

She awkwardly broke off the thought, not wanting to put a damper on their camaraderie by complaining about Taka's obsessive work habits.

But it appeared that she wasn't about to be let off the hook.

"You just wish that-what?" Dante prompted.

She shifted uneasily under his expectant gaze. "Never mind. I, uh, forgot what I was going to say."

He leaned forward to set his wine glass down on the solid oak coffee table and then turned to her with an uncompromising stare. "Pardon me, but that's bullshit. You were going to say that you wish your boyfriend would put ya before his job once in a while, weren't ya?"

"All right, yes. But I have no right to be critical."

He slid a bit closer. "Why would you think that?"

"Because he's been honest with me about what his job entails, and that it would take him a while to establish himself. I shouldn't have felt that I needed to check up on him."

"You had every right if you thought you were in trouble." Dante said. "Or if ya thought he was cheating."

She looked uncomfortable. "I didn't think that he was cheating. And I'm sure he's not."

"But you thought you were in trouble if you didn't show up." He pressed, and she nodded.

"It's a matter of how we started out. He was only seventeen and I was fifteen when we first met. We fell in love and desperately wanted to be together. There were some very tough times where we were forced apart, and each time we fought to be together again. It was incredibly romantic whenever we reunited." Her smile was brief and tight. "If I'd stayed in Japan and simply vacationed here, the romance would be still be alive each time he returned home. Instead, I took it as one more challenge to overcome and followed him here with unrealistic expections of having what we had back then again in this new world. I wasn't thinking that my perfect plan for love wouldn't survive the reality of my feelings."

"For what it's worth, I think you did the right thing in coming here to be with him." Dante remarked, after a contemplative silence. "Long distance romances might be romantic but they can't work forever. Eventually you have to actually be with a person to understand what's needed to make things work. You can be realistic while throwing in the other stuff to keep things exciting and fun."

"That's what I'd thought." She gave him a sad smile. "He comes from a poor family, but he worked hard and got an academic scholarship to international business school. When he had a chance to work in the U.S., I knew that he couldn't and shouldn't turn it down. He assured me that he would return for a visit every few weeks, but when it got to be well over a year without a home visit or any sign that he was trying for a transfer..." She gave a bitter chuckle. " At that point, I didn't care about having my career. I just wanted to see him!"

"It was a chance for a fresh start."

Miaka nodded. "I did all the necessary paperwork, and he arranged for an apartment and sent me application links for the local job postings so that I could apply for a position here in the city."

"So why didn't you just move in with him?"

"He did ask me to." She admitted. "It would have been common sense to do that...but I said no, because it just didn't feel like the right thing for me to do."

Dante didn't comment, but his expression made it obvious that he was glad of her decision. "So then what?"

"If we wanted, we could see each other every day and it certainly saved on our phone bills." She shrugged. "As it turns out, I'm still talking to him on the phone far more than I see him. If I see him in person twice in a week, it's because there's a weekend social event to attend for his work."

"Not what you signed on for."

"Yes. At one point, I was very close to packing up and going home." She brightened. "But as it turns out, I love my job, and I've made some friends, so I decided to give my new life a chance."

Dante raised his wine glass to hers. "Then I say, here's to taking chances and stickin' it out!"

They clinked and drank.

"So what are ya thinkin' about, Miaka?" Dante asked, seeing her expression turning pensive.

"That even if it has sometimes seemed that way in the past, I know I'm not a victim of fate or circumstance. I will always have the power to choose my path..."

She couldn't say more, because of the sudden lump in her throat. She turned her head to try to hide the tears that had suddenly filled her eyes, but the sharp-eyed Dante had seen the tell tale glitter.

He set his wine glass down. "Miaka..."

"I'm sorry." She said huskily. "As a rule, I'm not this downhearted about things. And now I've spoiled our nice evening by crying."

The sofa cushion moved, and her spine stiffened as strong arms came about her from behind and crossed in front.

"Ya haven't spoiled anything." Dante said near her ear. "I'm havin' a great time getting to know you, Miaka Yuuki."

"You've been very kind." The words were too stilted. She tried again. "I'm glad I'm here. I've been having a really good time."

His chuckle tickled the tendrils of hair near her ear. "But you're not used to bein' hugged from behind."

That was true, Miaka thought. but most of her tension was from a memory of getting a similiar surprise hug that had ended with near tragic consequences. Similiar, but not same thing, she reminded herself. This was Dante Tager hugging her, not a Hikou- influenced Tasuki. It did feel good to be held. Why couldn't she accept comfort without comparisons? Why did she have to keep bringing up the past?

"You're tense beyond belief." Dante said. "Tell ya what, I know exactly what you need. A neck massage."

She started to turn, but thought better of it when his lips made incidental contact with the hollow of her cheek. "I can't ask you to do that."

She could feel him smile."I'm the host and you're my guest. I say you can ask."

"An uninvited guest! Anyway, it's not necessary-"

He made a derisive noise. "Like hell! Your head is pulled so far into your shoulders I coulda mistook ya for a turtle!"

"Charming." She muttered, nettled in spite of her discomfort. "I suppose you have had women eating out of your hand with lines like that?"

"Who needs lines? I let my hands do the talkin'!" Dante shot back, then tighted his hold as she made to yank herself away. "All right, calm down! I'm only teasing!"

"So was I." She said. "But there's usually an element of truth beneath the teasing, isn't there?"

She had him. "Listen, now. The experience I have with neck rubs comes from helping my ma with her headaches. She's told me a million times that therapuetic touch is best for tension caused by worry and unhappiness."

She wasn't struggling to get out of his arms, but wasn't ready to give in completely. "So you're feeling sorry for me. That doesn't mean you have to-"

"Dammit, woman!" He exclaimed, interrupting. "I think I've made it pretty clear tonight that sorry is the _last _thing I'm feelin'! But that's not the point! Look, I'm thinking all that cooking an' bending over an' choppin' things all day long has to be hell on your neck and shoulder muscles. Is it?"

"Yes." She admitted, her resistance fading under his disarming truth and logic. "It can be very hard on them."

"Do you not like massages?"

"I adore them." She said. "I would book them often if they weren't so expensive."

"Here it's on the house."

"I know, but I feel like I'm taking advantage."

"You're not, I offered. I'd like to have the pleasure of doin' something nice for ya." As he spoke, Dante's cheek and chin rubbed against her hair. "I promise that I know what I'm doin', but if you don't think it feels right, just tell me and I'll stop."

Miaka drew her bottom lip between her teeth. She couldn't help but be reminded of Tasuki and how he had always tried to make it up to her in his own unorthodox way whenever Tamahome had done something to upset her. Dante trying to do the same was an irresistable force.

She sighed her capitulation before voicing it.

"Thank you, a massage sounds wonderful."

"Thatta girl!" He said, while giving her a little squeeze. "No worryin', y'hear? I promise you're in the best of hands."

Miaka caught his mischievous look out of the corner of her eye and simply nodded, thinking it was safer not to reply.

She was finally released so that Dante could lean forward and push the coffee table farther from the sofa, and then grab a large throw pillow from the opposite end.

"It'll be easier on my arms if you sit below me for this." He explained, noticing her wary glance as he placed it on the floor between his feet. "And sitting this way I can get the right amount of pressure."

"Oh...okay." She set down her glass on the end table next to her, and then slipped from the couch to sit indian-style on the plump cushion. As Dante shifted into position, she tried not to think about the muscular thighs and calves that were now pressing into her sides. "Am I in the right spot?"

"Back up a little bit more…okay, that's fine."

She shivered in reaction as large hands gently gathered up her hair and draped it so that the thick mass fell entirely over her left shoulder.

"Um…there's one more thing." He said, sounding hesitant. "Please don't take this wrong... but you're gonna have to loosen things up a bit." He tugged lightly at the collar of the robe which was drawn tightly around her, demonstrating that access to her neck was almost impossible. "See?"

"All right." Making sure to hold the neckline closed across her chest, she pushed and pulled at the neck and opening of the robe until it draped around her upper arms, displaying her shoulders to advantage and confirming the fact that she wore no bra.

There was a heart pounding pause. Miaka held her breath until she heard the sound of cracking knuckles.

"Okay, tip your head forward and try t' loosen up your shoulders." Dante instructed.

As soon as she had complied with his wishes, he positioned his hands on the nape of her neck. Miaka felt herself tensing up again, and immediately chastised herself for doing so. It was so silly, since this the same man she had already let kiss the living daylights out of her after just having met him! What was the point in worrying about letting him give her an innocent and much needed neck massage?

Dante impatiently squeezed her sides with his legs. "I said relax!" He barked, in what she had come to think of as his 'macho cop voice'. "I can't do anything for ya without some cooperation!"

The authoritative tone succeeded where kindness had not. Miaka obeyed the command, and then closed her eyes as lean, strong fingers began to rhythmically knead the tension filled muscles at the base of her skull.

* * *

A thick silence fell and minutes passed as Dante massaged Miaka's soft, creamy flesh and the tense muscles beneath it. It had taken some convincing, but she'd loosened up.

And now _he _was the one tensing and struggling with his emotions.

_You can do this!_ He told himself, as his fingers moved. _Keep it therapuetic_. _The reward is__ havin' her trust, and that ya got her to feel better_.

His fingers stroked the corded sides of her neck, and he closed his eyes to block out the tempting sight of the robe that was sliding further and further down her chest. He opened them again after making the discovery that not only didn't it help to take his mind off what she looked like, but that a lack of visual stimulation greatly sharpened his other four senses. He was already far too conscious of her intoxicating floral scent, the fluttering of her pulse under his fingertips, her sinfully soft skin, and the pleasured sounds she made as a particularly large knot was undone- and he sure as hell didn't need to add to the impact they were having, thank you very much!

Thoroughly digusted by his lack of self-discipline, Dante hung his head and kept rubbing.

_You can do this. She trusts you- you don't wanna blow it by actin' like a wolf on the make. _

Reminding himself of the importance of trust was helping recoup his composure, until the instant Miaka tipped her head to the side and a swatch of her hair swept across the inside of his left thigh and he lost it for good.

He wanted to cuss. He wanted to rant. He wanted to throw her down on the floor and be done with it. His good intentions were slipping away just like the goddamned robe she wore. He glared at the back of the offending garment. What the hell had he been thinking? Why hadn't he given her one of his T-shirts or a sweatshirt?

_Because you wanted it to happen, ya moron!_

It had been insane to think he could ever touch her this way without wanting more; the hard evidence of that had risen between his parted thighs. The overwhelming need he had to make her happy had overruled his common sense, and now he would have to grit his teeth and take the consequences of that decision like a man. It was just too soon. She still had another boyfriend in the picture. He repeated that admonition like a mantra as his fingers tenderly massaged the spot where her neck met her shoulders.

Miaka groaned. "Mmmmm...Dante."

"Yeah? That feel okay?"

"Ohhhhh yesssssss...right there…ahhh...feels good…"

Her suggestive direction of his movements made him want to laugh and cry at the same time. _She's not that naïve, is she? She's got t'have some idea of what she's doin' to me! _Ironically, his irritation helped him keep his other emotions under control as his fingers left the base of her neck to run over the tops of her deltoids, which were strung as tight as overstretched rubber bands. His fingers unerringly picked out the spots where balls of tension had formed and began to work at them.

"Owie!" She exclaimed, as his thumbs bore down strongly on a tender spot.

Chagrined, he quickly eased up on the pressure he was applying. "Sorry. Is this better?"

"Ohhh yes…" She was purring again. "Wonderful."

Her hand lifted to absently pat his knee, and then stayed there. He wanted to chew on his knuckles, but settled for biting his tongue.

"Good," he said tersely.

Silence fell once more. Dante concentrated on working one shoulder and then the other, and then moved to the outside curves, idly taking note of how her head and her body were moving in tandem with the motion of his hands. It was almost like watching a puppet controlled by its master, and he couldn't help feeling a surge of primal satisfaction as he realized that it meant Miaka had completely surrendered to his touch.

After a few more moments she shifted her bottom to get more comfortable on the pillow. Instant heat shot through him when the movement caused the neckline of the robe to slip open a little bit more. She seemed not to be aware of it; her head had tipped to one side, as if she had fallen into a light doze. Only the slight catches in her breathing as he worked out the sore spots told him she was still conscious. Torn between chivalry and desire, he silently debated on what course of action he should take. Should he risk pulling it up himself? Or should he let her know that it was coming undone?

A few seconds later the decision was taken out of his hands as he watched her slowly lean back until her head was resting on one of his thighs. She looked lazily up at him through half open eyelids while his own gaze fixated on the curves of her mouth, so tantalizingly close to his sex.

"Thank you so much." She murmured drowsily. "That was good. All of the tension has gone."

He cleared his throat. "You're welcome."

After a few seconds of silence, Miaka made a half-hearted attempt to get up on the couch, waving off his offer of help with a smile.

Too late, Dante realized that her heel was caught up in the hem of the robe. But before he could warn her, she had already overbalanced and instinctively caught herself by putting a hand on the floor. Unfortunately for both of them, the hand she used to catch herself was also the hand that had been holding the front of the accursed garment shut.

As she dropped to a knee, the neckline was yanked to the side, exposing one perfect breast and its stiffened, rose-pink epicenter to the glowing rays of the sunset streaming in from the picture window.

After one shell-shocked moment of gaping, Dante quickly looked away, but those precious few seconds were enough to etch an eternal imprint on his memory cells. He drew in a shaky breath, mildly surprised that he was still conscious since he was quite sure that all the blood had just drained out of his head. Even without looking at Miaka he knew that she was blushing, but he refused to satisfy his curiosity as to how far down that blush was extending.

"Don't worry, I didn't see anythin'!" He fibbed gallantly.

He sensed Miaka had risen, but to his surprise she didn't turn away. A sidelong glance told him she had dropped back onto the pillow between his feet and that she hadn't covered herself, a sight which made him painfully aware that _he _should have had the sense to cover his groin.

He stared off into space with mortified resignation, knowing that she was getting a real eyeful and that he couldn't do a damn thing to hide it.

Long, silent seconds ticked by as she took in his condition and he studiously avoided her eyes.

"Onegai, Dante. Please look at me."

He obeyed her request reluctantly, and tensed when she placed her hands on his thighs. She used them for leverage to raise herself off her haunches, until she was kneeling on his eye level. He kept his gaze on her face, a muscle working in his jaw, body tense and taut with the restraint he was imposing upon himself.

When her gaze deliberately lowered to the rising bulge between his legs, he could stand it no longer.

"Dammit, Miaka, don't do this to me! I'm havin' a hard enough time as it is!"

"I can see that." She murmured, staring at the bulge with open fascination. "So tell me, Officer… is that a nightstick that you're packing, or are you just happy to see me?"

"Not funny!" He ground out, as his gaze strayed to her chest and then quickly jerked back up to her face.

"I didn't mean it to be." She said quietly, reaching out to grasp one of his clenched fists.

A tremor of excitement ran through him as she gently turned it palm up, and then bent her head to nuzzle the inside of his wrist with her lips. As she did so, her glossy auburn hair spilled forward, covering their joined hands. His fingers slowly uncurled under the silken onslaught.

"Miaka-"

The protest he was about to voice was wiped from his mind as she brought his hand to her exposed breast.

"Touch me." She exhorted, arching her back to press herself into his palm.

His fingers were already curling around the sweet curve of flesh. "Like this? Are...ya sure?"

She regarded him with eyes that glistened with moisture and memories. "I've made the mistake of not following my instincts before, and every single time I've lived to regret it."

"And what are those instincts tellin' you now?" He asked, holding her gaze.

She touched his cheek and then brushed back his bangs, which seemed to spark to flaming life in the fading rays of the sun.

"That my being here with you is right." She whispered.

The tenderness in the look she gave him precluded further discussion. He released his hold on her breast to curl the arm about her and haul her up across his lap. Once she was situated to his liking, he wiped away the fat teardrops that hovered on her lower lashes with tender but unsteady fingers. With this woman, all of the protectiveness he possessed was coming to the fore. He'd always hated seeing her look sad...

"My Miaka-baka," he murmured, not knowing or caring where the words came from. "Don't cry. I'm here with ya."

It took a moment to register what he was saying, and then her eyes went wide as they sought his. "Dante? Did you just call me-"

But Dante wasn't having any more discussion. Not now.

"Don't talk." He said. And his mouth made sure she didn't.

* * *

Miaka completely lost her train of thought as Dante's mouth took possession of hers. Her lips parted on a sigh and he slipped his tongue into her mouth with a smooth, silky thrust. His free hand caressed her from shoulder to hip, his tongue moving in rhythmic, sensuous strokes that sent wave after wave of heat through her body. She angled her head to deepen the contact, following the rhythm he set, pushing and sliding her tongue against his.

Her hands glided up his chest to the tops of his shoulders, then to the sides of his neck.

When she began to caress the sensitive hollows behind his ears with the pads of her thumbs, Dante broke the kiss.

"Come here." He growled softly. The muscles in the arm that held her tightened, lifting her shoulders off his lap as his other hand ran up and over the curve of her hip. She arched under the caress like a feline being stroked where it felt best, tipping her head back to expose the entire length of her throat to his hot, searching mouth. He bent his head to nibble and nip at the tender skin with his fangs, then nuzzled it with open lips and the tip of his tongue. The contrasting sensations caused her body to arch in silent invitation.

After a minute or two Dante raised his head once again.

"I wanna hear it! Say that ya want me, dammit!"

"I …I want you. " Her fingers found his braid and caressed it. "So much. You have no idea how much."

His eyes shone with triumph. "How do I find out?"

She looked up at him with aroused, frantic eyes, her breath coming in short pants. "Keep touching me…"

Their gazes remained locked. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders as he palmed her breast, then used his fingertips to lightly trace its circumference, moving toward its center in gradually diminishing circles. She moaned in frustration when he barely brushed her nipple with a finger and cried out in aroused satisfaction as he returned to tug and roll it between the pads of his forefinger and thumb.

"Ahh... that's good…"

Her hips moved in tandem with his fingers, as the liquid heat between her legs rose to volcanic proportions. When she was released, she whimpered a broken plea in her native tongue, and then in his. "P-Please...don't stop..."

"This is gonna feel even better." Dante assured her thickly, as he put his other arm around her and pulled her chest closer to his mouth.

His fiery head bent degree by agonizing degree until his hot breath caressed her skin. Miaka arched her back, pushing herself towards the only thing that could give her relief. When his lips engulfed the hardened tip of her breast, her hands went to his head, fingers curling into his scalp, holding him in place as he suckled gently. After a few moments, he drew her nipple between his teeth and bathed it with the wet warmth of his tongue, laving her thoroughly before flicking over it in rapid, back and forth motions. She cried out at the sensation, her arousal heightened by the feel of a rock-hard erection pressing into her bottom. Instinctively, she pushed and rubbed her buttocks against it; in return, Dante's hips lunged upwards as he drew her more deeply into his mouth, a response that was intensely gratifying to them both.

Releasing her grasp on his hair, Miaka grabbed for his t-shirt, yanking it up as far as it could go without them having to break contact. As an overwhelming need to please him surged within her, she ran greedy palms over the arched, muscled warmth of his back, then switched to lightly raking her fingernails over his shoulder blades. Dante released her nipple with a moan as the sensation held him in temporary stasis. Intrigued by his response, she switched to fingertips, and slowly repeated the gesture. He gasped and trembled with arousal, reactions which both thrilled and encouraged her to be bold.

Slowly, teasingly, one of her hands slid around to his abdomen, which quivered under her exploratory caress. She let it linger there just for a moment, then moved it in an unerring path up to his chest. She ran her thumb across the soft bump of his nipple, then smiled in satisfaction as it rose and grew hard as a pebble. A quick glance up told her that her partner was greatly enjoying her touch; his eyes were closed, a hard flush stained his cheeks, and his breath came in pants from partially open lips. Feeling deliciously naughty and wanton, she pinched his nipple, gently rolling it between her thumb and forefinger, as he had done to her.

The effect on Dante was instantaneous. He tipped her onto the sofa, whipped his shirt off, and straddled her body.

"I'm gonna ask once more, Miaka!" He rasped, looking down at her with smoldering eyes. "Am I what you really want?"

Miaka stared up at him, mesmorized by his intensity. Sculpted pectorals rose and fell with his rapid breathing, barely a foot above her exposed flesh. His arms and hands were planted on either side of her head, keeping the bulk of his weight off her body. His face was flushed with passion and taut with restrained desire.

He was beautiful. So beautiful that it made her heart ache.

Her answer was to wrap her arms around his waist and pull him down on top of her.

Dante capitulated to the silent demand with a throaty groan. Lowering his mouth to hers, he slid his pelvis between her parted thighs with a seductive thrust and grind that she returned in force, only to pull away again to stare down at her with a dark and dangerous expression, his eyes blazing at her from beneath a curtain of fiery bangs.

"I'm gonna make ya forget him." He promised hotly, pausing to administer a toe curling kiss before lifting his head once more. "Once I'm inside ya, you're _mine_!"

Miaka blinked as the voice from the past penetrated her erotic daze. Lying beneath Dante like this, hearing his passionately spoken words, seeing the bare chest and the flush of arousal slashing across his cheeks... was like going back in time. The circumstances, the place, and the language were so different...but the voice and the intent were the same.

She was going to make love with Tasuki!

Her hips slowed their movements, then stopped moving altogether. _Oh Suzaku, not now...not like this! Not when I'm thinking about Tasuki, and he doesn't understand..._

Though she was trying her hardest to suppress the memories, it was to no avail. They continued to flow, steadily eroding her feelings of pleasure. Tasuki wouldn't have wanted it to be this way, he hadn't wanted to come between her and her love for Tamahome! He had been willing to sacrifice himself to avoid that very thing! Would making love with Dante make that sacrifice meaningless?

Dante had sensed her withdrawl, and pushed himself off her by extending his arms.

"What is it? Did I do somethin' ya didn't like?" His voice shook. Dark brows met over eyes that held hurt and confusion. "Tell me!"

"It's not you! I love what we've been doing... what you've been doing..." She lowered her eyes to his tattoo and began to trace around it with her finger, taking comfort in how quickly the colors came to life under her touch.

His mouth tightened. "Is it that Tasuki guy again? That I look like him?"

There was no way she could avoid answering. "Well...y-yes." She admitted, blushing deeply.

His eyes narrowed; jealousy and frustration blazed in their amber hued depths. "Were ya wishing I _was_ him?"

She was stricken. "No!"

"Then what is it about him that gets to you? I think I got a right to know!"

Miaka sighed. This situation was so complicated! How could she make him understand? "I know what you're thinking, but we weren't ever lovers." She answered, as steadily as she could. "It wasn't like that. We were very good friends, that's all."

"I see." Dante looked as if he didn't see anything. "If that's all it was, then why did you freak out on me?"

"Tasuki tried to be more than that to me, once." She said, choosing her words carefully. "I was seventeen. It was one of those times where it looked like my boyfriend and I weren't going to be able to stay together. To try and cheer me up, Tasuki took me to a nice restaurant at an inn. We had fun, and ate so much...and he encouraged me to drink alcohol. I wasn't used to it and I got drunk, and he took me to a suite upstairs and then tried to seduce me."

"And did he?"

"No! I guess he thought making me feel good would make me forget everything bad that was happening to me... but when I got scared and started to cry, he stopped. A lot of other things happened after that made him see that it was a mistake. He took responsibility and apologized to me. And I gladly forgave him."

She had a hysterical urge to laugh as she ended the story. _Left out some crucial details, but this is all he needs to know for now. _"It's not that I was trying to put you in his place, Dante," she concluded. "It's ...it's that just a moment ago you sounded like Tasuki when you said you'd...you know...'make me forget'. He wasn't going to hurt me, but it's still a painful memory. And it made me stop responding. Because of him, not you."

Her voice trailed away and her face flamed with embarrassment.

"You don't have to say any more," Dante said gruffly. "So he tried to force himself on ya, but didn't go through with it because he saw you didn't want that with anyone but your boyfriend?"

"Yes." Miaka replied softly.

"Why did he even try?"

"Tasuki was protective of me. He'd get upset when my boyfriend wasn't treating me properly and gave him a bad time...even though they were good friends too. Somewhere along the way, I think he started seeing me as someone he could be with that way. But because he never let on, I was really shocked and frightened when he told me that I was going to be his, and he would be the one to make me a happy woman."

* * *

Dante frowned as he digested the information. Tasuki's situation and his own with Miaka did have some uncomfortable parallels, which would probably explain the overwhelming desire he now had to atone for his double's mistakes.

"How old was he at the time?" He asked, after a brief silence.

"Nineteen."

"Did he have a girlfriend prior to that?"

It was an interesting question. She hadn't considered that he might have. "Not that I'm aware of. I never heard about any." She said slowly. "He sometimes said he didn't like women, but that I was the exception."

"Then I'd say it probably wasn't out of character for him to try somethin'." Dante said, surprised to find he'd forgotten his anger in warming a bit to the subject. "At that age guys are dealin' with some powerful urges, but most aren't mature enough to try an' control 'em, much less want to understand how they feel about love. It doesn't in any way excuse what the guy did, but it sounds to me that he fell for you, didn't realize how he felt until he saw that you were unhappy, and things got to the point where he couldn't hold back any more. Even then he couldn't just say it. He tried to give himself to you to show his feelings for ya the only way he knew how."

* * *

_At first I thought you were this weird kid. Then, as time went on, you became a woman to me..._

Those words had been forever burned into her memory, thanks to what Hikou had told her about the spell he had put on Tasuki. Though destructive in intent, it was essentially a spell based on truth, a spell that coerced the victim to reveal or act on feelings and emotions they might have otherwise kept hidden. Knowing that, the implications of what Tasuki had said to her that night been too difficult for her to deal with, and she'd chosen to leave them behind for the sake of keeping a friendship and the peace.

Tonight the past had somehow caught up with her. It was literally hovering over her, staring her in the face and speaking to her, giving her redemption even as she grieved for what might have been.

She no longer wanted to escape it. She was older and wiser now, and more than strong enough to face facts.

"I was as much in the dark as he was." She said quietly. "The thing is, even if I had understood his feelings then, and even if I had returned them, it wouldn't have mattered. There was no way I could have stayed in...in China, and it wasn't possible for Tasuki to leave there. Certain circumstances have kept us from staying in touch, and it isn't possible I'd ever be able to go back and find out what happened to him."

"Right girl, wrong place and time." Dante murmured. "That was harsh for both of you."

Miaka felt strangely comforted by his words. Though it was very odd telling Dante about Tasuki, doing so was helping her lance a wound she hadn't realized was still festering. "My biggest regret is not telling him how much he and his friendship meant to me while I was still with him."

"I'm willin' to bet he knew."

"I hope so." She said, feeling desire returning in full force. "He was always the one who kept me moving forward, and gave me the courage to act, you know. Thinking about that helps me even now." Before Dante could say anything, she reached out and cupped a hand over his denim-sheathed gender. Her fingers took measure of him, traced his outline, followed its rapidly swelling contours before boldly palming its breadth.

"You're magnificent." She whispered. "And I want you so much."

He moaned and shuddered, then quickly reached down to prise her hand away.

"An' God knows I want you...but if ya want me to last_,_ you can't do that!"

She was abashed. "I-I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I liked it." He assured her. "But you _would _be sorry if I let ya keep goin'!"

Despite her chagrin, mischief reared its head. "I think that you should let me be the judge of that!"

Dante looked surprised, and then tempted. "Maybe I will...later." He bent down to press a swift kiss on her lips before rolling off the couch to kneel at her side. "This sofa is way too cramped for what I got in mind. Will you go down the hall with me?"

She hesitated and then nodded...at the same time the strident summons of a telephone cut into the room.

Dante cursed savagely, then buried his face in the curve between her neck and her shoulder as the phone continued to buzz.

"Don't you have a message service?"

His voice was muffled by her hair. "Turned it off. It'll quit in a minute."

Miaka felt a prickle of conscience. Dante was a policeman. What if the caller really needed his help? "You should pick up."

"I'm not on call. Ignore it." He began to nuzzle and nip at her soft skin in a blatant attempt at distraction.

It didn't work. "I think you should answer." She admonished and pushed at his chest. "Even if you're not on call, it could be an emergency!"

"It's telesales." He argued. "I bet you ten bucks it's a telemarketer."

She raised her eyebrows. "Do you feel that lucky?"

He pressed suggestively against her. "Depends on what kind you're talkin' about."

Miaka drew in a breath and pointed.

"You. Kitchen. Now."

Mumbling a curse, her host pushed himself to his feet. He stood pouting down at her while she closed and retied her robe, and Miaka grinned up at his put-out expression as she was pulled her to her feet, silently reveling in the knowledge that Dante made her his top priority.

"I'm not going anywhere, you know." She assured him. "I'm just taking what you Americans call a rain check for you get back."

"A rain check on what?" Dante asked, pretending confusion.

She smirked. "The sooner you take care of that call, the sooner you'll find out."

His fanged grin was wide and wicked as she literally pushed him out into the hall and then marched him down to the kitchen where the phone was still trilling impatiently. Dante picked up the receiver, barked, "This is Tager, hold on a sec!" and then covered the mouthpiece with his other hand.

"How about a lil' sneak preview to tide me over?" He pleaded, giving her his best woebegone look.

As her gaze roved over his naked torso, Miaka's expression made it clear that she was picturing herself kissing and caressing every inch of it. When her eyes finally met his, she gave him a smile that was nothing short of pure sass.

"Patience is a virtue, Dante-kun." She teased softly. "I'll be waiting for you for as long as it takes."

He was about to explode, and she hadn't even touched him. "You're killin' me!"

"You look very healthy to me!" She countered, with a blatant glance at the front of his cutoffs.

He made a quick grab for her. Miaka danced just out of his reach, then tormented him with a shy but inviting, over-the-shoulder smile before padding out of the room.

After she had gone, Dante took a couple of deep, somewhat calming breaths before lifting the receiver to his mouth. If it was an emergency of some kind, he didn't want to sound _too_ pissed off at the caller, even though he was determined to make short work of the call.

* * *

"Yo, Wolfman!" Craig's voice crackled cheerfully over the line. "What took ya so long?"

Dante rolled his eyes at the use his old high school nickname. Some people could never leave the past alone- and his best friend was one of them. "Yo, I have company! Whaddaya want?"

"_You_ have company?" Craig repeated in astonishment.

"Yeah, and your sense of timing sucks."

There was a significant pause as Dante braced himself for the inevitable.

"Would said company be of the female persuasion?"

"I ain't sayin' nothin'."

"It's Miaka, isn't it?" Craig chortled gleefully as his friend's silence confirmed the guess. "I knew it! You're goin' down, brother! Kiss yer single, solitary days goodbye!"

"Don't be too sure. There's another guy in th' picture. They've been dating a long time."

"So?" Craig scoffed. "From the way that cute lil' chickie was eyeing ya today, I'd say she's already chosen you over that big time desk jockey… and that's why I'm callin'! I figured out where I've seen Miaka before."

"Where's that?" Dante asked. His interest had peaked in spite of himself. Maybe this would explain the powerful sense of déjà vu that had been haunting him since he'd first laid eyes on her.

"Her picture's been in the community pages with the boyfriend."

Dante's stomach lurched with foreboding. "So who is he?"

"Jeez, you still don't know?"

"We happen t'have a lot more important things to talk about!"

"Jeez! No need to bite my head off! " Craig grumbled. "Seems he's this big shot young executive that likes to make the corporate society scene. Thought you might be kinda worried when ya shouldn't be. His bein' Japanese, and havin' dough an' corporate social status don't mean that the guy's any more worthy of carryin' your jock strap!"

Like the proverbial big brother, Craig always had his back. "Yeah, okay. Sorry."

"So do you wanna know? Or are ya gonna ask her?"

Dante didn't and wouldn't. How many young, high powered Japanese executives could have settled in the Springs in the last couple years?

Better to hear it from Craig.

"What's his name?" He asked.

"Sukinami. Taka Sukinami."

* * *

To be continued!

**Reviewers will receive a Shiatsu style body massage and a case of lemon scented Pledge! **


	8. Chapter Eight

**Leather and Lace**

**By: Maidens of Konan**

_(Disclaimer: We do not claim to own any part of Fushigi Yugi, it is owned by Watase Yû, Shogakukan Comics, Pierrot Studios, TV Tokyo and Pioneer! However, we do claim the rights to the past, present and future lives of any original characters that may appear in this story. Please do not use them without our permission, or we will be forced to send Byakko the tiger god to take a bite out of your sorry backside.)_

**Chapter warning: spicy language, angst and sensuality**

**Chapter Eight **

**"**Hey Tager, you still there?"

"What? Oh. Yeah."

"There's an article that mentions him in today's business section. Want me to read it?"

"Nah, I'll read it later."

"We're gonna be doing some research on him, right?"

_Already know more than I want to,_ Dante thought_._ "Nope. Not gonna go there."

"C'mon, really? This from the guy who tells me you have to know how your nemesis thinks to defeat them?"

Dante grit his teeth. His best friend meant well, but every word was like a paper cut to his nerves. "It's not about me defeatin' him. It's about making her happy."

"Wow. " Craig said, after a silence of palpable astonishment."You're already serious about her."

"Yeah, maybe. Listen buddy, I don't mean to cut ya off, but-"

"All right, all right. Ya don't want to keep the lady waiting. I got it."

* * *

After an exchange of goodbyes, Dante put the phone down in its base and turned to lean a forearm against the wall.

The objective point of view would say that it was a damn good thing that he had been reassigned before meeting Miaka and that he'd found out who her boyfriend was before he'd taken the irrevocable step of going to bed with her and totally ending any possibility of taking the case back.

That same point of view would also say that the information Craig had given him was valuable in providing an explanation for things he'd been wondering about Miaka's finances, and he should be glad he'd gotten it without him having to stoop to asking. Status and bucks- from his investigation, he had already known the guy had both. Sukinami would be the kind to set her up with a designer decorated place and flashy sports car that she had no business owning on a chef-in-training's salary. What he'd heard from Miaka tonight confirmed it had all been given because of his ego and without thought as to what she might really be wanting from him.

_If I walk away from her, she's gonna end up with a guy who thinks he can take care of her but doesn't have a goddamn clue about her feelings._

Scowling, Dante turned abruptly and put his back against the wall, a position that mirrored the way he was feeling_._

Yes, he was removed from the case. But even so, he had a responsibility to act. Ignoring or pretending ignorance of Sukinami's presence in her life from here on out was unethical on both professional and personal levels. For him to keep seeing Miaka under a pretense of not knowing and her actually not knowing would inevitably put him in conflict of interest both with her and those who had been helping him in building a case against Thornton Industries. As it was, for him to have had any contact with her socially, even unknowingly, was sure to bring migraines and pitfalls for the prosecution if ever the day came where there was enough evidence proof to bring charges of wrongdoing against Thornton. And though Miaka's not knowing his true role within the department was a misunderstanding that was easily corrected, telling her he had been in charge of the fraud investigation in which her boyfriend was potentially a key player was a dealbreaker for keeping her with him.

Would she believe him if he said that their meeting had been a coincidence? Would she think he had asked her out simply to so that he could glean information from her? And even if she did believe that he hadn't known about her connection with Sukinami before, would she forgive him for not telling her that he was a detective, not a patrolman?

And then there was the problem of her getting involved with the case. There was no telling if the guy was willing to talk. If that continued, the next step, enforcement of a warrant, would bring embarrassment and possibly be grounds for a job termination for Sukinami. Miaka had loved the man since the age of fifteen. Would she understand that being uncooperative would bring more trouble on himself? Or would she see his pursuit of Sukinami as a betrayal of her trust?

The one thing that gave him hope that she'd be reasonable was her point of view on Tasuki. He'd had enough experience with interviewing date crime victims to know that she wasn't telling him everything the guy did to her, and her almost panic over his resemblance to the perpetrator was a clear indication that there was a lot more than drunken kisses and hugging going on at that inn. To see that she cared for and was worried about the guy even after he'd made a terrible, colassal blunder in judgement...well, that showed a capacity for empathy and forgiveness that was beyond anything he'd ever experienced.

If she could forgive Tasuki for that kind of transgression, then chances were good she shouldn't have a problem extending forgiveness to anyone who had unthinkingly wronged her. But having her forgiveness didn't mean everything would work out between the two of them. Telling her about the investigation would be putting Miaka in an impossible position in regards to Sukinami. With as loyal as she'd been, it couldn't be expected that she wouldn't talk to and warn the man about the potential trouble he was in. If Sukinami told her he wasn't involved in any way, it would certainly be grounds for her to defend him.

She might be the one needed to get Sukinami to cooperate with the investigation. After that happened, it could be that Sukinami would be an unpopular employee at Thornton, so much so that he might decide to cut his losses and go back to Japan. He would certainly want to take Miaka with him. Back to their friends and their families. Back to the life they'd shared

A crisis bringing estranged lovers together. It was a story he'd seen often in his line of work.

Dante clenched his fists.

The energy building inside of him was to the point where it was almost unbearable in intensity. Frustration? Anger? Despair? Whatever it was, he needed to expend it before it consumed him.

He came away from the wall, standing at attention while his arm lifted and his hand unerringly reached to a spot just behind his right shoulder, as if to grasp a rifle from a holster.

It faltered, encountering nothing but air. Bewildered and annoyed, he lowered his arm, and got yet another shock at seeing his tattoo all lit up like the end of a branding iron.

He stared at the phoenix in bemusement.

The outline of the bird flickered, then dimmed. Another few seconds, and it was back to its original pigmentation, leaving him wondering.

_Fuckin' weird! Am I hallucinatin'?_

He wished to God that he was. He wished that he'd imagined that phone call, or better yet, that he'd stuck to his guns and not answered it at all. His evening with Miaka had gone from a dream to a nightmare. And now he was getting a headache. The events of the day; his reassignment, the chance meeting, the odd sensation of having untapped power to unleash, his unshakeable desire for Miaka, and the dilemma of what to do now that he knew Sukinami was her boyfriend, were all jumbled together, and too much to take in all at once.

He needed time to process how he felt and a chance to sort things out before deciding how to proceed.

Maybe he'd discuss it with Connery. Or Craig. Or both. They could both be trusted to give him the straight truth about his options and prospects.

But right now, top priority was how the hell he was going to give Miaka a brush off that would effectively put her out of his reach until he'd figured out a plan of action.

He thought for a minute, and then returned to his living room with lagging steps and a horrible, half-assed excuse.

* * *

She was standing in front of the picture window, staring out into the fading to purple dusk, obviously waiting for him to come and pick up where they had left off . He was quiet enough that she didn't hear him come in, and he took full advantage of the reprieve to take a long look at the best thing that had ever happened to him before he sent her away.

She had discarded his robe in favor of his T-shirt. The sight of her wearing something he'd taken straight off his body instilled a searing sense of possessiveness mixed with pleasure. It hung below her denim shorts, drawing attention to shapely calves and bare feet. She was sweet and sexy. And God, how he'd love to have those calves locked around his waist right now!

But that was impossible. No matter how much it hurt, he had to do this. It was the right thing to do, the only choice he had in the matter.

He cleared his throat to attract her attention. Miaka turned quickly at the sound, and the sultry smile she wore vanished as soon as she saw his face.

"Ah, I was right! You have to go, don't you?"

Her tone was laced with acceptance and understanding, but Dante could still sense the disappointment she was trying to hide. He cleared his throat again, this time to get rid of the lump of regret that had lodged there.

"Yeah." He affirmed. "That was Craig."

She gasped. "Is he all right?"

"Yeah, he's fine." Dante looked away, unable to meet her gaze as he continued with the hastily concocted story. "He had some kind of electrical problem with the coffeehouse's refrigerator units. I know a few things, so I might be able to fix 'em myself and save him a huge repair bill. There's a ton of perishables, so time is a factor, and that means I gotta go now."

He hated himself for being good at lying. It would serve him right if she figured it all out and told him to go to hell. He almost hoped she would.

But kind-hearted Miaka did nothing of the kind.

"Of course you have to go! To lose that much food would be terrible!" She exclaimed, looking just as shocked as if he had said Craig had been robbed at gunpoint. "I could move the food to coolers while you-"

_Damn_. Dante thought. _I shoulda known she'd want to help_. "Craig an' his staff will have that part covered." He said. "An' besides, you have to be to work early tomorrow, don'tcha? I have no idea how long this is gonna take."

"I don't mind losing a little sleep if I can help out a friend-"

Her words faltered as he folded his arms across his chest and gave her his most uncompromising stare. "No. There's nothing for you to do."

"But I could-"

"You'd be a distraction at best. The only way you can help is to go home."

For a drawn out moment she just stared at him with an expression that made his heart feel like lead.

"All right. " She finally said. "I'll be going home."

Before she could move to carry out the words, Dante surprised her and himself by impulsively stepping in front of her. It would be better and a helluva a lot less painful to end the encounter without fanning the flames, but he couldn't do it. Not when every part of him knew that something very precious was slipping away and he was a fool to let it go.

"Thank you for a terrific dinner." He said, lowering his guard to give her his warmest look. "It was awesome in every respect."

He didn't miss how quickly her expression had brightened in response to his softened demeanor. He'd never met anyone so in tune to his moods.

"Thank you. I enjoyed making it for you." She said, giving him a small smile. "And thank you again for the neck rub- it was awesome too."

As he had thought, she was generous and quick to forgive him for a slight. Because of that, he had to touch her just once more.

He reached out and his fingertips traced the curve of her cheek.

"It was my pleasure," he said huskily, savoring the way her eyes closed and her lips parted at the physical contact.

But savor was all he could do. His hand fell away as her eyes opened, and the desire he saw in their depths was almost his undoing. He leaned forward to kiss her, stopped himself when halfway there, and then out of sheer desperation, turned his back to her. "I shouldn't have done that. Sorry."

There was a short silence in which he could feel her gaze burning a hole between his shoulder blades.

"What have I done to upset you, Dante?"

He assumed a bland expression before turning around to face her. "Nothing. What makes ya think I'm upset?"

"What makes me think that?" Her cheeks were flagged with color, and her eyes were ablaze as she answered. "Maybe because just a few minutes ago you were behaving like you wanted me more than anything, and now you're acting like touching me is poison!"

He shook his head. "It's not what you think."

"Then what is it? Considering what we were about to do, I think you could take a moment to tell me what happened to change your attitude towards me?"

There was no reasonable response but the truth. Dante closed his eyes and sighed, a defense against spilling his guts before he had a handle on what to say. "Look, don't take it personally. I'm not happy about havin' to end things this way." _Biggest fuckin' understatement of the year! I'm fuckin' pissed!_

"But Dante-kun...it doesn't have to end if you bring me with you."

He wasn't prepared to feel her arms wrapping around him, or for the softness of her body pressing against his side. Before he could control the reflex, he had jerked away from her, making a sharp sound of denial against the raging need the unexpected contact with her had brought on.

She made a sound.

His eyes flew open to see her standing with her arms hanging in midair, looking as if she'd been burned.

_Oh shit_. He thought. _That was bad._

"I see." Her voice was almost a whisper as her arms dropped to her sides, underlining the fact that his involuntary reflex had hurt her far more than any words he could have spoken. "Clearly, I've pushed you into something you are having second thoughts about. I'm so sorry."

The pain in her eyes had his stomach twisting into knots. This was crazy, what was he doing? "Miaka, wait. I'm-"

Her upraised, trembling hand stayed his words and froze him in place.

"You don't have to say anything more, _Officer_." She emphasized his title with quiet dignity rather than sarcasm. "I may be naïve and stupid about some things, but I'm not so dense that I don't recognize a convenient excuse when my company is not wanted."

She knew, dammit. She knew he was blowing her off. The heat of shame stung his skin.

"I'll need to use your bathroom, and then I'll be leaving." The words _'for good'_ were conveyed in her tone. "Please excuse me."

Stone-faced and silent, Dante watched her hurry from the room.

* * *

The room grew cold in her absence despite the heat radiating from the gas fireplace.

A fireplace she had thoroughly enjoyed with him even though it wasn't a real one.

He walked over to it, and stared down at dancing flames that would never reduce logs to a char. He had convinced himself he was happy with the imitation logs of fire, just as he'd once been satisfied by companionship and sex without commitment.

But tonight had changed all of that. He now knew exactly what he'd been missing, what he'd never had before and what he would be depriving himself if she left.

Miaka was his fire. Without her, his passion couldn't burn.

In the space of the next few seconds, Dante came to a firm conclusion. Even though it was an ethical breach and conflict of interest to keep seeing Miaka, he couldn't and wouldn't give her up. What they had shared eclipsed everything that had been important to him up until now, including his career. He'd give it up and then some if it meant he could keep her with him.

_She needs time to regroup. W__hen she's done in the bathroom I'll go get her and apologize. _He decided, already starting to feel better._ I'll tell her what happened and how I feel about it. I'll ask for understanding and forgiveness, and we'll take things from there. _

It didn't dawn on him that she had been lying about having to use the bathroom until he heard the sound of his front door being closed.

Spitting out a loud curse, Dante raced to the door and yanked it open. He was greeted by the sight of a visibly crying Miaka slamming her car door shut as she started the engine.

He yelled for her to stop, made frantic gestures, but she wasn't looking or listening. Before he could even think of running after her, she was out of the driveway and headed down the street.

All he could do was stand on his porch and stare at the retreating tail lights until they had blurred beyond recognition.

* * *

Miaka parked in the lot of her apartment building and switched off the ignition, still shaking with the aftermath of emotion that had hit as soon as she had left Dante's. She didn't remember much about the drive home, except wiping away tears and the aching sense of loss she had endured from the moment she had sensed his withdrawal.

_How could he have changed his attitude so quickly? I was so sure he felt the same way I did…at least… I know he wanted me…he couldn't hide that... _

Why had he changed his mind? Could it be that he was unsure of her feelings, and worried that she might end up regretting making love with him ? Had something been said during his phone call that put him off? But if it was Craig, that certainly shouldn't have happened, he was all for his friend getting a girl, wasn't he? There couldn't have been anything he would have heard that would make Dante change his mind. The book was the only secret she had, and she was sure Craig wasn't aware of it.

She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself and summon the energy to move. Sitting in a parked car in the middle of the night was not going to help her figure out what had gone wrong and she still had to go to work the next day. If she sat here much longer pining over the situation she would never get any sleep, not to mention that Dante' thin cotton t-shirt afforded little protection against the cool evening air. She couldn't afford to get sick and miss work on top of everything else.

Wiping the back of her hand across her eyes, she yanked her keys from the ignition and pulled herself out of the car.

Once she had reached the apartment, she took a moment to give Mizu the treat she had remembered to buy him before going to Dante's, went into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, and then headed straight for her bedroom.

Her body and mind were desperately crying out for the oblivion of slumber. Nevertheless, her hands stilled in the process of drawing the borrowed T-shirt over her head, and after a moment, released the hem to tug the collar up under her nose.

She inhaled deeply. A mixture of Dante's cologne and natural masculine scent filled her nostrils and she closed her eyes against the ache of longing it provoked.

Something soft and furry rubbed against her ankles, jolting her out of her painful reverie.

Miaka smiled down at her pet, who had abandoned his beloved smoked fish to console her. She bent to pick him up and rubbed her cheek against his fuzzy head.

"Mizu, I may have grown up on the outside, but nothing else has changed since the book. I'm still that little fifteen year old running after the boy she adores and can't have."

The cat gave a gruff meow.

"Oh, I know there aren't any rules about not being able to stay together here, save for the ones we make for ourselves." She gave a mirthless laugh. "But the book is still controlling things. Its mere existence is a problem for my having a solid relationship with Dante."

Mizu cocked his head inquiringly.

_"_I can talk about the book with Taka. I don't have to hide anything having to do with it, because he remembers that he was a part of it. But Dante doesn't have a clue about our past. He's noticed his tattoo lighting up when he's feeling a connection to me, but he was very quick to dismiss it as imagination_." _She sighed_. "_To be honest, I was halfway hoping that us being together tonight might have triggered a memory that would give me a good reason to talk about it. But after what happened, I don't think he's ready for me as I am in the present, much less finding out about me and the book and the past."

She looked down at the t-shirt, which had fallen to her thighs.

She should exchange it for a nightie, but she was weak and knew she'd be sleeping in it.

"Anyway," she continued, "Dante doesn't have direct memories of being Tasuki, but I do think aspects of his past self are an influence. He's funny and has a temper. He's protective, forthright and bossy when it comes to what I should be doing, and secretive when it comes to letting me know what he's feeling. All of which is just like Tasuki used to be. And Tasuki was wary about getting involved with women. He always said that they took advantage and were cheaters…" Her lips turned downward. "And in my case, he was right! Taka and I are together, and I was willing to sleep with Dante within hourse of meeting him. I teased and pushed him to the point where he couldn't say no. And even then he was willing to hold back when I had a flashback of Tasuki..."

She paused, but Mizu was silent in her arms. If cats could frown, Miaka thought, he probably was doing it. But he seemed to be listening intently, so she may as well tell him the rest.

"Dante was so understanding when I told him about the incident with Tasuki. It was weird and wonderful that talking to him about it helped me get over it. If that phone call hadn't come, he would have been regretting everything in the light of morning, but I wouldn't have been. I'd do it all again in a heartbeat."

She was tearing up again, but struggled on. It was important to coping with her feelings of loss, if nothing else.

"If he decided he doesn't want me after all, that's okay. I'm not sorry I still want him, and I will accept the consequences of my feelings. If today is all that I will have of him, then it will be enough."

Setting her cat down on the bed, she jerked back the covers and climbed into it. Once she had settled in, Mizu padded over to make a place for himself against her chest, instead of curling up in his usual spot behind her knees. As he kneaded the comforter with large, velveteen paws, he kept his unblinking gaze upon her.

Miaka's hand lifted to stroke his soft fur, taking solace in the soothing sound of a low, vibrant purr.

"Oh my little neko, humans could take a lesson in listening from you! I love you, thank you for being here."

She closed her eyes and her hand slowed its stroking motion as she relaxed.

Mizu did not close his eyes. He remained watchful as his mistress' tears gradually ceased soaking her pillow, and her deep, even breathing told him she was asleep.

* * *

Dante shut his ticket book with a snap and stalked back to his squad car, leaving a thoroughly intimidated teenage male cowering in his wake.

Yanking the door open, he got in and then shut it behind him with a slam that rocked the vehicle.

He had just issued his fifteenth speeding ticket of the day which made up for his sub-par performance the day before. It also put him close to his assigned quota for the entire week, not that he gave a hoot in hell. His ruthless efficiency wasn't motivated by numbers, but by his being in no mood to let anyone off the hook- least of all himself.

After Miaka had left him, he had wandered around his house while debating whether to follow or call her. Eventually, he'd succeeded in convincing himself that they both needed space and some time to regroup. He then had forced himself to sit down and watch some TV, hoping the monotony of channel flipping would distract him from thoughts of Miaka and his dilemma with her boyfriend.

When that didn't work, he had gone to bed early but couldn't fall asleep as thoughts buzzed in his head and his emotions continued to spin out of control.

He finally dozed off well after midnight, but once again his dreams brought him no peace. The frustration of not being able to reach his captive woman was replaced by a new kind, generated by dark and erotic images of her undulating beneath his thrusting body, her long, supple legs and womanhood clamped around him like a silken vise. Just as he neared climax, the sensations were so intense and so real that he awakened to find himself saddled with a painful erection and an insatiable need to have Miaka beneath him so he could finish what they'd started in the dream. Taking an ice cold shower at five a.m. had helped him get his hormones under control, but it hadn't washed away the sadness and pain he felt every time he pictured tear-filled green eyes and trembling hand as she told him she could 'take a hint'.

No doubt about it, he had been a complete jerk and the worst kind of coward last night. He had deliberately hurt Miaka because he had been afraid to take a chance based on his feelings for her.

Since when had he started avoiding conflict? Since when was giving up on something an option when things got a little tough to deal with? Never, that's when! It wasn't like him at all! One of the reasons he had a sterling service record was because he had never backed away from a tough situation or hesitated in bucking conventional wisdom when it was warranted. Although it was true that acting on his instincts occasionally got him in trouble- as his present position on the force proved- it was equally true that thinking outside of the box had paid off dividends in solved cases, commendations and promotions. Listening to his instincts was what made him a damn good cop! Why had he questioned them when it came to Miaka?

He had finally found his perfect match, and had thrown her away because he was afraid_. _Afraid to trust. Afraid of the consequences. Afraid of what people would say.

Afraid that he'd put it all on the line and she would end up choosing Sukinami.

That was the most galling thing of all. Not doing his best to win Miaka's heart because he might lose her?

Dante slammed his fist down on the steering wheel in disgust_. _

___What the hell is wrong with me? _ I've never been a coward or a quitter, and I ain't about to start! 

A glance at his watch said that now was the time to quit dithering and take some decisive action. He hadn't had his break yet, which now provided him with an immediate window of opportunity to make things right. _The lunch crowd at the restaurant should be pretty much gone. Hopefully she'll give me a chance to say my piece even if I don't deserve that consideration. _

Spirit renewed, Dante started the car and pulled out onto the freeway with a spray of gravel and a screeching of tires.

* * *

It had been a hellish day so far, and it was about to get worse.

"It's the delectable Miss Miaka Yuuki," a deep voice announced, "bringing her sweetness and spice to my kitchen."

Miaka sighed quietly, bracing herself for the onslaught of compliments and the inevitable invitation to dinner.

"Hello Chef McMasters." She replied, without looking up from the potatoes she was dicing for that evening's special entree. Perhaps he'd take the hint that she was busy and wait to pester her later.

He didn't. "Have I ever told you how exotic your accent makes things sound?"

It had been like this since she had started working for him- Kevin asking her out and she refusing repeatedly. "I would rather you tell me that I'm doing a good job with my english."

"You have worked hard and improved immensely." He said, with a seriousness that had her glancing at him in surprise. "The accent is the only thing that gives you away."

She nodded, gratified by his sincerity, but continuing to chop, knowing it was best not to let down her guard. "Thank you."

"The lunch rush is over, you know." He said dryly. "I'm not a complete slave driver, it's all right if you relax a little now."

"It's not you, it's me." She said in a cheerful tone. "I like to take the opportunity to get ahead." She'd also liked to be proactive in avoiding his amorous overtures. If she didn't distract him, one was sure to be on its way."Olivia was looking for you earlier. She didn't say what she wanted, but you might want to go check with her." _Take that_, she thought. _He can't blow off one of the owners!_

"Alas, Olivia left ten minutes ago." McMasters countered with a smile, as he leaned over her shoulder on the pretext of examining her work. His far superior height would have allowed him to also look down the v- neck of the scrub top she usually wore, which was why she had recently taken to wearing traditional high necked chef garb, though it wasn't required. "You do nice work, Miaka. Your hands are deft and strong."

Miaka tensed as she felt his breath tease her neck, bared by a pretty but practical chignon. She could deflect Kevin's innuendos, but physical contact was another matter. He hadn't crossed that line so far, but there was always a first time.

He exhaled again- on purpose this time, she was sure. Apparently the man was more interested in the making stray wisps of hair dance against her nape than in watching her cutting techniques.

She set down the knife she held for safety's sake and turned her head so that her nape was out of breathing range. He had moved to stand in front of her as she turned, and his close proximity to her forced her to look up at him.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked him, as quietly and respectfully as she could. It wouldn't be wise to be accusatory or insubordinate, but neither did she want him to think her easy prey by doing nothing to stop his little game.

Holding up his hands in feigned innocence he said, "I thought I was giving you a compliment?"

She put a hand to her forehead, wishing she had a headache as an excuse to leave his presence. But no, despite the stress and aggravation, she was feeling fine.

"My dear girl, what is _this_?"

She blinked as he switched gears, reaching for her injured hand. Removing the glove that covered it, he eyed the bandage on her finger with genuine and professional concern.

"I cut it last night making a salad." She said, then gently but firmly removed her hand from his grasp.

"It looks serious. Did it require stitches?"

"No, thank goodness, it wasn't that deep. It's just a little sore."

"It the pain affecting your dexterity?"

She shook her head. "It's not bad. I'm concentrating, so most of the time I don't even notice."

"I'm glad to hear that." He paused. "So, a salad. Cooking for one again?"

Miaka silently counted to ten. "As you can see, I still have a lot of prep work to do-"

"You have time to spare." The master chef let his eyes roam in a manner she assumed she was supposed to find flattering. "You shouldn't be eating alone so much. I'm sorry that Taka doesn't understand that his lack of attention will cost him."

"With all due respect Chef McMasters, I'd appreciate it if you kept comments about my personal life to yourself."

"I'm sorry that my admiration for you makes you angry." He said, moving so that she was forced to avoid contact. "Look, please don't take me the wrong way. We are both single. You love food, as do I. It's a waste for both of us to cook for one. If you would do me the honor of consenting, we could put together a five star feast. I'd like to teach you how to make my version of Oysters Rockefeller, which the New York Times food critic adores by the way, but I'd rather hear _your _opinion of it!"

"You're kind to offer, and I'm sure it's a wonderful dish, but I have to decline."

"You have to decline." He mimicked her prim tone. "Why? Someone as career oriented as Sukinami understands the importance of networking, and I'm sure he wouldn't object to your doing the same! What's the harm in two coworkers having a gourmet meal and swapping cooking tips?" He leaned forward and placed his hands on the table behind her. "I'll teach you new cooking techniques that could help you get that big promotion. How can you say no?"

Ice blue eyes regarded her with innocence, but the smile gave him away.

Miaka opened her mouth to tell him just what he could do with his oysters, his invitation and the promotion, but stopped when one of the afternoon waitresses entered the kitchen. Frowning, Kevin stepped back as she approached.

"Excuse me, Chef, but there's a gentleman here who's asking to talk to Miss Yuuki." The waitress barely flicked a look at Miaka before returning her full attention to McMasters. "I told him that she was working, but he's very insistent on seeing her."

"You don't have to go, Miaka. I'll be happy to deal with him." Kevin said.

"No, wait." Miaka set down her knife once again. She had no idea why someone would be asking for her unless was a reviewer with a complaint, or someone from immigration, checking up on her application. She didn't relish either scenario, but this was her chance to escape an embarrassing confrontation, and she wasn't going to pass it up. "Thank you, Chef, but I think it's best that I go find out what he wants if he asked for me by name. I don't want to be responsible for displeasing a customer or a food critic."

Her boss grimaced. Customers were priority, and one bad review could sink a restaurant. "All right, take a break and go see what he wants. And be sure to call me if there's trouble."

"I will. Thank you, Chef."

"You're most welcome." McMasters looked around, saving face by reverting to temperamental mode. "Where's Alan? These vegetables aren't going to chop themselves!"

* * *

As Miaka took off her apron and hurried out of the kitchen, her boss paused to watch her depart, then turned to address the very pretty waitress who had been patiently and obviously waiting for some kind of acknowlegement.

"You must be the young woman who just started working here, aren't you?"

Blushing at having his full attention, she nodded shyly. "It's been three weeks, Chef."

"I'm Kevin McMasters. Welcome to the Phoenix, er... He paused to smile apologetically. "I'm afraid I haven't been told your name."

"It's Brianna. I-I'm very happy to finally meet you."

She was looking at him like he was a rock star. Predictable, and yet a balm for his frustration over Yuuki getting away. "Ah, Brianna. It's a name I'd choose for a beautiful woman..."

It was a given that he was able to secure a date with the smitten waitress. His charm, when he chose to use it, coupled with his Nordic good looks and tightly muscled physique ensured that he didn't have any problems hooking up with whatever woman he decided he wanted.

No problems, that is, until Miaka Yuuki came along.

He had been in a rush to find a new sous-chef and hired the first applicant he had run across whose resume had met all of his requirements. Her interview had been conducted by the owner of the restaurant, so the first time he'd seen her had been when she'd reported for her first day of orientation. Her appearance had been a most pleasant surprise, and he'd been disappointed to learn she was in a serious relationship.

But after almost six months, it was apparent that relationship had gone nowhere, and he was hovering on the brink of indiscretion in trying to make her see that. That she excited him both as a man and as a chef was a novelty. She had enthusiasm, great personal energy and talent for food preparation. She listened to and followed his suggestions, and he never had to explain anything to her twice.

She was serious about food, a trait which he found utterly charming and irresistible.

She was a hard worker, a breath of fresh air in his cynical world. Even if he gave her a bad time, he actually respected her steadfast refusal to cheat on her boyfriend, as misguided as it was.

But those who knew him best also knew that his respect and admiration for Miaka's principles would not stand in the way of his pursuit of her. His ambition to have her paralleled his single minded quest for culinary perfection. His failure to produce the results he wanted after preliminary tries only challenged him to try again, to do better, and to think of new ways to get her to accept him and a date.

Maybe she could be enticed by the sharing of secrets of his exotic past. He hadn't always been a chef, and he had knowledge of talents no one else would believe. And through discipline and restraint in his training and their practice, he had learned that anything worth his time was worth exerting patience and diligence to attain.

Today he had seen a crack in the cheerful, excruciatingly polite demeanor of his sweet Asian flower. She seemed tense and unhappy, and had uncharacteristically lashed out. He'd provoked it, but this time, her rejection of his male admiration was too strong not to have deeper significance.

It could be that things were not going well in her love life.

A little more time, and perhaps a gallant and sensitive approach would win her over.

* * *

Miaka strode through the nearly empty restaurant, smiling a greeting to the handful of customers still lingering over their lunches. As much as she was relieved to have escaped her boss' attentions and ire, she hoped what awaited her wouldn't be upsetting or take a long time to resolve since it was past two o'clock and in a couple of hours the restaurant would start to fill up again.

She had been truthful with Kevin about wanting to get a jump on the food preparation awaiting her before the dinnertime rush. There were three different sauces that needed the finishing touch, salmon fillets to de-bone, vegetables to dice, not to mention having to put together the elaborate garnishes that McMasters insisted should accompany all of his specialties. There was also the problem of her fragile emotional state to worry about and she prayed the visitor wouldn't give her too hard a time or she might embarrass them both by breaking down right then and there.

Her worries about her work and a potentially angry customer vanished as soon she turned the corner and got a view of the reception area. The foyer was empty of patrons, save for a tall, uniformed officer who was standing at attention as he waited. This had to be her unexpected caller. Funny that Brianna hadn't said anything about it being a police call. But was he a customer? He was on duty, obviously. What could he possibly be-

Her brisk stride faltered, and then dropped to a snail's pace as she watched the officer take off his hat and tuck it under one arm. Even at this distance, blazing red hair gave away his identity.

Her stomach dropped to her feet, and the pain she had managed to push aside for a few busy hours returned in full force. She fought it back and clamped down on her emotions, determined not to let them get the best of her.

_Calm down, Miaka, you can handle this_. _Last night was all a big mistake. You've done it before. Just tell him goodbye and then get on with your life._

Spending the entire morning replaying the previous day's events in her mind had brought her the conclusion that despite her bond with Dante as the reincarnation of Tasuki, it was best for all concerned if she severed all ties to a relationship.

Okay, they hadn't reached official relationship status yet. But she was certain that Dante couldn't deny any more than she could that what they had shared with each other last night was born of more than a physical attraction.

What was between them was a force to be reckoned with, unstoppable and fierce. Acccepting that, she had given up trying to rationalize her craven behavior in the last twenty-four hours and simply decided the only way to deal with it was not to see him again.

The fact that he never tried to call last night or this morning as she half hoped he might have only reinforced that decision.

So what the heck was he doing here? What could he possibly have to say?

After smoothing a hand over her upswept hair, she checked her chef's whites for foods stains, relieved to find that there weren't any noticeable ones. Her shoulders were slumped, and she quickly straightened them, hoping her resolve to end things would remain as stiff as her posture. As she approached the confrontation, she took a deep, calming breath...and almost forgot to let it out again as Dante turned his head and spotted her.

In that moment, as their gazes caught and held, she realized once and for all that she couldn't be the one to say goodbye. This man and her memories of Tasuki were united, and she knew that she would never exorcise one of them from her heart without losing the other.

Dante would have to be the one that ended it.

She didn't have the will, and never would.

* * *

"Hey there, Miaka!"

The enthusiasm in his greeting knocked her angst-riddled thoughts off course.

"H-Hello Dante." That fanged smile was truly irresistable. And she was stammering like a lovesick schoolgirl. "Not out on a call, I hope?" There, that was more like it. Polite, but not too friendly.

"I'm on my lunch break." He replied, his smile vanishing at her cool response. "I came to see you."

She didn't know what to say, but couldn't help but feel better as she saw him swallow and a muscle jump in his cheek, which meant he wasn't nearly as relaxed as he had first appeared.

"And I thought you might be wantin' this back. " He added, holding out his hand to her in the manner of one extending an olive branch.

Her eyes lowered to stare blankly at what he offered; the t-shirt she had abandoned the night before. Folded, clean, and wrinkle free, it was as pristine as if the night before had never been.

So he was returning her property. How ironic.

Now she knew exactly how he'd felt when she'd held out his hat.

Taking the shirt from his grasp, she thanked him for the trouble he had taken in returning it.

"It isn't any trouble. I'm happy to do it."

She demurred. "You washed and ironed it. And you drove it here on your break. How could it not be a bother?"

"How could it be when it gave me a great excuse to come here and see ya?" He countered smoothly.

His smile was back, and had an intimate warmth that was reflected tenfold in his eyes. She blinked at him, then brought the folded shirt to her chest, crossing her arms over it defensively as she tried to figure out what was going on.

A perky sounding voice coming from directly behind her saved her the trouble.

"Hi Mia! Are you being arrested?"

Miaka turned to see Hannah DeBerg, the Phoenix Grill's lead hostess, moving from the lectern that served as a reservation desk. From her unrepentant smirk, it was obvious she'd been watching Miaka's encounter with the police officer with shameless interest.

"It's purely a social call, ma'am." Dante said, before Miaka could respond.

The hostess' eyes held twin gleams of gleeful speculation. "So you know Miaka on a personal basis?"

Dante's lips twitched at the unsubtle request for details. "Yes I do, ma'am. But not nearly well enough to suit me."

_What is he saying?_ Miaka thought wildly. _He rejected me and practically kicked me out of his house! Does he not remember that? _

It was crazy_. _But in spite of her indignation, she had to admit there was pleasure to be found in hearing Dante boldly state his interest in her to her very attractive coworker.

Damn the man. And damn her traitorous body. Would it ever cool down when he was around?

"Is there anything else you wanted, Dante?" She asked.

Too late, she realized that it was a poor choice of words.

Her visitor's smile said that the double meaning had also registered with him and that he was exercising great restraint in answering her question in a serious fashion. "Yes, there's something we need to discuss in private. Would it be possible for you to take a break outside with me right now?" He turned to look at the avidly listening woman standing behind them. "No offense intended, ma'am."

"None taken!" Hannah replied warmly. "I'm too impressed to be offended."

As her co-worker gave Dante a high wattage smile, Miaka felt a sharp stab of jealousy. It was unreasonable, unwarranted and irrational, but it decided the matter of whether she'd consent to his request. "Han-chan, if anyone asks, would you please tell them I'm taking an early supper break?"

"Of course, dear! Don't worry about a thing, you just go along with Officer-er...?" The hostess sent a speaking sidelong look at Miaka, who blushed at having neglected to introduce her guest.

Dante stepped into the breach by extending his hand. "Dante Tager, ma'am. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"And I'm Hannah DeBerg, Mia's best friend!" She said, shaking his hand with delicate vigor. "Speaking as such, it's good to know that she's got a guy like you keeping an eye on her. Drop in on her anytime!"

Dante smiled. "Why thank you, Miss Hannah. I'll be doin' mah very best to make that happen."

His accent was as thick and deliberate as molasses, and Miaka had to fight an urge to smack him. How dare he use his Southern charm this blatantly to try to charm her friend into overlooking his flaws?

And Hannah was just as bad, grinning and pointing out Dante's fine backside to her as he bent over to pick up his hat, which he'd dropped when he shook hands.

Past experience had taught her that frowning or any expression of disapproval would go unheeded by her friend, and indeed, might even escalate the outrageousness, so she didn't bother attempting to quell the display. She just crossed her arms and made a point of keeping her eyes away from Dante's fine backside Hannah was so determined she notice. But as the hostess fanned herself and mouthed, 'he's a keeper, go get him!', irritation gave way to fondness and amusement. It was truly impossible to stay peeved with the woman who had the best of intentions behind her unabashedly enthusiastic efforts to point out any man who could become her friend's 'Mr. Right'.

Working together, being close in age and a sharing of common interests had led to Hannah DeBerg becoming her first and closest friend in America. Once they'd gotten comfortable enough for confidences, Hannah had made no bones about saying that Miaka should be exploring alternatives to a workaholic boyfriend. Unable to get Miaka to go to the usual singles haunts, she had gone so far to try tricking Miaka into having lunch with one of the single male regulars at the restaurant.

The man had been a scientist at the local university. He'd been handsome, intelligent, charming and fun to talk to over coffee. But she belonged with Taka, and made that clear before he could even attempt to ask her out. He'd been disappointed, but as a loyal customer, he stll dined in despite the rejection, though not as often. She'd felt so bad about putting a damper on his enjoyment of his favorite restaurant, she had secretly set up a meeting to introduce him to the very attractive and single woman who did the books for the restaurant.

Her reward was earning another girlfriend for life, and finding out the two of them had gotten engaged just last week.

Upon hearing the news, Hannah was floored. Once she'd recovered, she'd apologized for her error in judgement. As she had put it, it was now quite obvious that a man who would give up so easily in pursuit of Miaka's heart wasn't worthy of a single minute of her time.

"You need a guy who will chase you and woo you and go all out to make you happy. A guy who will do whatever it takes to be with you, even if you try and shoot him down." She'd declared, then rededicated herself to her search for her best friend's soulmate, leaving Miaka to wonder if she had indeed refused a good prospect because she'd been waiting for a better man from her past to come find her and fulfill his vow to make her happy.

She was pulled from her musings with a start as Dante took her arm with courteous assurance.

"Miaka? If you're ready, let's go."

Here he was, she thought dazedly. The man who could and had made her think of leaving Taka.

Such was the power he wielded. But did he even care?

As she was quick marched to the doors, she cast a wide-eyed, over-the-shoulder 'help me' look at the grinning Hannah, who shrugged dramatically and then waved a cheerful goodbye.

* * *

Once they were under the blazing midday sun, Dante wasted no time steering her over to the small, Japanese-style garden placed to one side of the entrance for the comfort of customers waiting for tables on a busy night...or just to enjoy after having dessert. They entered its gates appreciating the cool, leafy shelter provided by the young maples and mountain ash planted along its winding walkway.

Dante directed her over to the corner of the garden that boasted a landscaped pond filled with koi. When they reached it, he released her arm and they stood, side by side, looking into the water.

After several awkward moments in which nothing was said, Dante cleared his throat.

"Miaka, I'd like to talk to you about what happened last night, and I hope you'll hear me out."

She cast a sideways look at him. Lips set in a tight line, eyes fixed on the pond, a dead giveaway that what he was about to say wasn't something he was comfortable saying.

He was probably about to dump her. Well, fine. At least he'd had the courtesy to do it in person. She'd make it as easy for him as she could, and she wouldn't let him see her cry.

"There's no need for an explanation." She said, before he could say anything to release her dammed up flood of emotions. "Considering my situation, I never should have gone to your house in the first place, much less behaved as...um...wantonly as I did with you." She drew in a deep breath. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed to death. "Let's think of yesterday as temporary insanity. It's good that you put a stop to it before it went too far-"

"It hasn't gone far enough."

His voice was pitched low, but the wealth of feeling in his words made her feel as if he had shouted. Miaka felt a stirring of anger. How dare he disagree with her when he'd been the one to dismiss what they'd shared?

"I think it has." She asserted.

Her tone dared him to convince her otherwise.

He looked at her then, and the sparks in his eyes said he accepted the challenge. "The only insanity that took place yesterday was you sneaking out on me before I had the chance to apologize for asking you to go home."

"That wasn't insanity! It was self-defense!"

His sheepish, fang-tipped half-smile loosened the constriction around her heart.

"Okay, I'll conceed that." He said. "But didn't your mother ever tell ya it's rude to run away when people want to talk to you?"

"Yes, which is why I'm standing here right now!" She shot back, unconsciously slipping into the bantering mode they'd shared the night before. "And doesn't that rule also apply to you? I wanted to talk, and you were the one who told me to leave."

"A mistake that I would have rectified if you'd stuck around." Dante said. He reached out, and the warmth and gentleness of the fingers that covered her lips left her weak and unable to protest his bossiness. "That's why I'm here. I need to fix what I broke. So will ya please be quiet an' listen to me?"

She hesitated, then nodded her assent.

"Thank you." His fingers lingered for a moment longer, then fell away. "I should be doing this properly with flowers an' stuff after the crappy way I acted, but I couldn't take the time to go get 'em. The most important thing was to come an' see you as soon as I could, so I could tell you how very sorry I am for bein' a bad tempered swine and makin' ya cry."

His eyes were dark with remorse as he took her hands in his, then brought them to a place directly over his heart. "Even if I had some reservations about what would have happened if you'd stayed, there's no excuse for handlin' it the way I did." He stated somberly."Knowing I hurt you for no good reason is the worst punishment there is. I'm very sorry, and I wanna make it right. I'm here to beg ya for a second chance so I can prove to you that I'm not the world class jerk you saw last night."

Honest, sweet and direct-as an apology, it went a long way to healing her wounds. He hadn't said why he'd rejected her, but did the specifics of that really matter? He was human, and he had some misgivings about taking such a big step. What mattered is that he was here with her, deeply and truly sorry, and that she was certain that he'd make good on his promise not to shut her out again.

But she had to let him know that trust was a two way street. If this was going to work, he couldn't hide things from her. "You did hurt me, Dante. You were so honest, and then everything changed. You withdrew, wouldn't tell me what you felt."

Her voice had thickened, and she had to swallow.

"I'm a fucking idiot." He said, looking miserable. "I don't know what I was thinkin'. There's no excuse I can give. All I can say is that it won't happen again, and ask you if you'll give me another shot?"

She couldn't refuse him a thing when he looked at her like that, but he didn't need to know that.

Her retaliation for his transgression was to keep him waiting a few more seconds before she said,

"Yes, of course I will."

Dante expelled a long breath. "Thank God."

Her smile came more easily. "It sounds like you were worried."

"A lot more than worried." He admitted. "Couldn't see why the hell you would forgive me. But you've got a real kind heart, so I was hopeful."

"Some people would say a kind heart is also a foolish heart." She pointed out with a smirk.

"Any idiot who would say that is gonna get their ass kicked by me!"

He looked fierce, and she liked that. "Really?"

"Damn straight! Bein' nice is a strength, not a weakness. You're a good woman, Miaka. " He put his lips next to her ear and whispered the rest. "And one hot little wanton too."

She laughed, both flattered and flustered. "Dante!"

"Only tellin' the truth. And since I'm a really bad boy, I got no problem with askin' if you'd promise to act that way with me again."

He was so sweet and so wicked. That she'd cried herself to sleep seemed completely immaterial now; Dante still cared about her, still wanted to be with her, and everything was all right with her world once again.

Turning her head, she gave him a swift kiss and an answer. "I'll promise, but only if you promise to reciprocate when I-"

"I swear it!"

She giggled at his emphatic interruption, but pushed herself away when he began to nuzzle her neck. "Oh no, not now. We can't... "

Dante reared back. "C'mon. After all that angst, I need to muss you up a little."

She was weakening, but held herself back. "Kevin will not be pleased if I come back to work all mussed up."

Dark eyebrows instantly drew together. "And who's Kevin?"

"My boss. He's the head chef."

"You're on break and there's no customers out here." Dante pointed out. "What's his problem?"

"Yes, well..." Miaka cursed herself for the slip. She'd have to answer, or he'd get it out of her, one way or the other. "He's asked me out. Several times. I turned him down, of course."

Dante's expression hardened. "And when was the last time?"

"Just before you got here today." She admitted, and then playfully swatted him with her T-shirt. "Don't glare. I can handle him. He's not a bad guy, he's just been spoiled by women. He's good looking, and not used to hearing the word 'no' from most of the females who work here."

"But he's givin' ya trouble on the job."

"It's nothing I can't handle." She repeated, as her companion's lips compressed into a straight line. "He's a tease and a bit of a pervert...but a _harmles_s tease and pervert. He's not out of control, he knows where to draw the line. Eventually he'll get bored with being rejected and hit on someone else."

When that assurance failed to wipe the frown from Dante's face, she wrapped her arms around his waist and looked deeply into his eyes. "Honestly, he's not that bad! I can deal with it!"

It was clear her assurances were falling on deaf ears. Dante's expression grew even more foreboding as he told her sternly, "You shouldn't have to 'deal with' your boss comin' onto you! In case ya didn't know, we have laws in this country regardin' no verbal, physical, or sexual harassment in the workplace!"

She averted her gaze. "It won't come to that. I'll take care of it before it does."

"Or I will." Dante reached out and curled his fingers around her chin, gently forcing her to look up at him. "Ya don't have to go it alone! Personal feelings aside, it's my job-"

"-to serve and protect." Miaka finished with a smile. "And I promise you'll be the first one I call on if I need assistance." She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"You damn well better." Releasing her chin, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her petite form tightly against him in a bear hug. "God, the hours since ya left seemed like weeks to me."

"For me too." She agreed, smiling up at him.

He lowered his head to rest his forehead against hers. "Thanks for not lettin' me screw things up."

"You're welcome." She said. "You can kiss me now."

"Yes ma'am."

Their lips met in a long, slow, and infinitely tender caress.

Dante sighed after it ended. "Thanks. I needed that."

Miaka simply nodded, and laid her head on his chest, enjoying the scent of his cologne and his natural masculine scent. His hands traveled their way up and down her back. A deep contentment was stealing over her, diminished only by not knowing when they would be together next...

She didn't realize she'd spoken the wish aloud until he asked the question.

"Then how about goin' out to dinner with me this Friday?"

She stared at him, open dismay etched in her face. Her weekend plans with Taka meant that Friday was booked.

"I-I wish I could, but I can't on Friday."

He was undaunted. "How about Saturday?"

Pulling out of his resisting arms, she gazed up at him with anxious, pleading eyes. "This entire weekend won't work. I promised someone I'd go to Cripple Creek this weekend and I can't get out of it." Her voice shook with disappointment. "I made those plans before you and I...before we... " She gestured helplessly.

"The boyfriend?" Dante asked.

Sad-eyed, she nodded. "I didn't know...I thought it was the right thing to do at the time he called. I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize. You've known me for all of two days. Can't blame ya for wantin' to make sure you're not makin' a mistake."

"No, it's not like that!" She insisted. "I only agreed to go on this trip for the purpose of seeing a place I've wanted to visit for months. And now, it will be my first and best chance to talk to him. It would be cruel to tell him in a phone call or email."

"And I wouldn't want you to. " Dante stated. "I'm goin' into this thing with my eyes wide open. I can't say I'm happy about it, but after hearing more about him and you, it'd be stupid for me to expect him to disappear from your life just like that." He snapped his fingers.

She winced. "I'm glad to hear you say that, and I have to be honest with you too. I have to say...that being with me means accepting that I won't and can't cut him completely out of my life."

Dante's brows lowered. "What does that mean?"

"I mean that I literally owe him my life."

The eyebrows went up. "You do?"

"One night in Tokyo, when we were teenagers he fought off Na-um, this insane man who came out of nowhere and attacked me on the street. The man was bigger and more powerful, and hurt Taka badly. He was almost killed, but he kept protecting me until the man was gone and he knew I was safe."

"Shit." Dante murmured, looking pained. "Criminy. When I said that...I didn't mean that I actually wanted him to disappear-"

She hastened to reassure him. "I know you didn't. But I wanted you to understand that's why he'll always be a part of my life."

* * *

Dante did understand, even though he was reeling from a revelation that felt like a roundhouse kick to his chest. Whatever else Sukinami was mixed up in, the man deserved to be remembered for a selfless and heroic act.

"He deserves a lotta respect, and I'd give him my thanks too, if I could."

They were silent for a moment, each thinking that an expression of gratitude from Dante would certainly be spurned if he and Miaka were a couple and Miaka and Taka were not.

"I would be okay with it if he decides to forget me, though." Miaka said. "It might make him happier."

"I doubt that." Dante said. He pulled her into his arms, and felt a little better as she snuggled into his embrace. "Just know I won't be askin' ya to forget him any more. Just promise to think about me when you're out an' about with him this weekend, and I'll be okay."

"I will." She vowed, blinking hard. "I'll think about you and miss you every single minute."

His forefinger lifted to catch the fat, solitary tear that was rolling down her cheek. "Hey now, this is nothin' to be worrying about! I'll keep happy and busy planning our next date!"

"You will?" She sniffled.

"Damn straight I will." He gave a loud, dramatic sigh. "You just go and have lots of fun shoppin', gamblin' and eatin', and don't worry your head about poor ole Dante, stuck at home, daydreamin' and crawlin' around on his hands and knees scrubbing dried up gravy off his kitchen floor with stinky ole Pine Sol …" He gave her his best puppy- in-the-rain look.

As he had hoped, his silliness produced a wobbly smile.

"Oh _you_…" She tapped his arm with her fist.

"That's my girl!" He gave her an encouraging squeeze, then released her to look at his watch. "Damn. My break is close to bein' over." _Which means I've put off telling her yet again. "_I'm off at five today. Okay if I give you a call right after that?"

She gave a teary nod. "I'll be waiting by the phone."

"I guarantee that our next date will be great."

"I know it will be." She swiped at her eyes with the back of one hand, a gesture that went right to his heart. "It's so easy being with you. It's everything else that's difficult."

Her failed attempt at a chuckle made him grab hold of her again.

"Miaka, listen to me! Everythin's gonna be okay! If ya doubt that, just think about this..."

He had intended the kiss to be tender and comforting, and it started out to be just that.

Then Miaka wrapped her t-shirt around his neck, holding one end in each hand, unashamedly using it as means of restraining him when he would have drawn back. When he capitulated and remained where he was, she brazenly tugged on it to bring him closer. He responded to the wordless command by grabbing her hips and pulling her flush against his hardness. His tongue parted her lips with a decisive prod, then shot into her mouth to court hers in a sinuous dance that grew increasingly erotic as they allowed their mutual passion to flare.

Miaka dropped the t-shirt; her freed hands traveled up his neck and delved into his hair, liberating several strands from their severe combing down. When her fingertips encountered his hat, she removed it and carelessly tossed it aside, much to Dante's amusement. His muffled snickers ended abruptly, though, when her fingers raked through the thick masses of hair behind his ears at the same time she pushed her pelvis into his.

A moan was ripped from him as his hands moved from her waist to cup the sides of her breasts. If only he could turn back time to the night before...

His body hardened, and he struggled for restraint. "Miaka... sweetheart. We gotta stop!"

Even as he protested, his need throbbed in his voice. And it seemed his hands had a mind of their own.

She smiled against his mouth. "What if I don't?"

He sucked in a tortured breath as she traced his sensitive upper lip with her tongue. "Then I'd have to arrest ya for tryin' to corrupt an officer of the law."

"Mm. That means… you'd have to frisk me." She murmured, between short, tender kisses. "And then… you'll have to handcuff me… and give me a ride downtown in the back seat of your car. I think… I could deal… with that…quite well!"

"Dammit, woman! You're killin' me here!" Half groaning, half laughing, Dante tried to pull away from her. In retaliation, Miaka caught his lower lip between her teeth and nipped it before releasing him.

"Little minx! What happened to your traditional Japanese propriety?"

She grinned. "Tossed it out, along with my traditional Japanese common sense."

Dante gave a breathless laugh, and then reflexively ran his tongue over his lip, testing to see if she had drawn blood. Seeing that she was following the movement, he couldn't resist doing it again.

Her reaction was to place her fingers over his mouth. His tongue emerged to playfully tickle their tips, eliciting a soft moan and a plea.

"Onegai, Dante...please…just one more before I have to go back?"

She seduced him with her eyes while offering him her lips.

With a groan, he granted her wish.

* * *

A few blissful, passion-filled moments ticked by in which they were completely lost to the real world, but it intruded once again in the form of a discreet whistle or two and soft giggling. They quickly broke apart as the last of the lunchtime diners passing by the garden grinned broadly and gave them the 'thumbs up' sign.

Miaka was blushing.

"Just look at what you're doin' to my reputation!" Dante complained in mock outrage. "How bad does it look for an officer of the law to be engagin' in public personal relations while on duty?"

"Tell them I was in trouble and you were giving me mouth to mouth." His partner in crime retorted, as she bent to pick up the discarded t-shirt. Straightening, she went to tidy up the thick swatch of bangs that had fallen in front of Dante's eyes. "Tell them you had to do it. After all, 'helpful' is your middle name."

He grinned. "So what's your excuse?"

"If anyone asks, I will use your fifth amendment." She wrinkled her nose. "Though knowing my boss, I wouldn't be surprised if he's peeking around the corner to see what's been keeping me- "

Her words ended on a surprised squeak as Dante suddenly grasped her by the shoulders.

"I don't want him keepin' tabs on you." He said, staring deeply into her eyes. "I know you've been dealing with it, but swear that you'll call on me if he doesn't ease up or he tries anything! Swear it, or I 'm not lettin' you go back in there!"

The fierceness in Dante's words and his aggressively protective demeanor brought fresh tears to Miaka's eyes. For a moment she could only stare at him in silence, feeling completely unworthy of the devotion that had spanned more than one lifetime.

His expression and grasp gentled. "Miaka?"

"I swear." She sealed the promise with a last, lingering kiss, lips parted, tongue gliding into and over the sweetness of his until she felt her control slipping; at that point, she hastily pulled back and took off running towards the restaurant.

"Unfair!" He yelled after her. "Get yourself back here, ya little tease!"

One glance back at his hungry expression told her it was best not to obey the command. "Sorry! I'll have to make it up to you later!"

"Damn right you will!"

Her laughter floated back to him. The happiness it contained filled Dante with giddy anticipation, and his misgivings about not coming clean with her about the investigation were assauged- at least for the moment.

_Baby steps._ _Gotta get her in the right setting and then we'll go from there_.

* * *

He watched Miaka until she reached the door, and then grinned from ear to ear as she turned to blow him a kiss just before disappearing into the darkness of the restaurant.

Only after she was out of sight did Dante think about recovering his headpiece.

He turned his head to begin a search, and then gave a start as it appeared right under his nose.

"Thanks," he said automatically, taking the hat from the wrinkled, liver-spotted hand that held it.

"You really need to get serious about courting that girl," an elderly female voice advised him, "or she's going to end up with the wrong man."

Dante glanced down and found himself meeting the gaze of an elegantly dressed, well -groomed old woman with the face of a basset hound. Her gray hair was drawn into a top knot, emphasizing her drooping jowls, and he could see that she was also extremely short, given that her beady eyes were on a level with his elbow as she peered up at him.

"Are you a friend of Miss Yuuki?" He asked, while barely repressing a shudder. _Can't believe that face is for real. Hasn't she heard of plastic surgery? _

"That's one way of putting it." The woman gave a dry chuckle. "The relationship Miaka and I have goes _way _back. Speaking as someone who knows her very well, it's easy to see that she's quite taken with you."

At hearing this, Dante smiled. Maybe the crone wasn't so bad looking after all. "Really?"

"I never say things I don't mean!" The old lady admonished him sternly. "You will be the one to make her happy again, but only if you don't let past hurts, heartaches and self doubts get in your way."

Dante stared at her. "Excuse me, ma'am, but you're acting like you know me. Have I made your acquaintance before?"

"Not in this life!" The aged face crinkled with humor at his bewildered expression. "But, never mind. I can see it's too soon for that conversation. The process of enlightenment is a complicated one and cannot be rushed." She patted his arm in a reassuring, grandmotherly manner. "You just need a bit more time. At least I can rest easier knowing that you've been reunited and are once again watching over her."

_What the hell is this weirdo talkin' about?_ _Did she know we had a fight? _Dante thought. He could feel his temper rise, but held it in check. Experience as a beat cop had taught him that aged women loved nothing better than to ramble on about the past to anyone who would take the time to pay attention. She was probably a bit wacky in the head due to her advanced age, so what would it hurt to humor her?

"You _must _keep her safe at all costs," his companion was saying softly. "She's very important to me, and to countless others."

Finally, something that made sense. She probably thought of Miaka as family and was concerned about her living alone in a foreign city. It was understandable that she'd have that reaction, and being law enforcement, he'd naturally be the one she'd turn to for help in such matters.

"I'll protect her." He assured her with confidence. "Nothing is going to happen to Miaka while I'm around."

"I have no doubts about that." The old woman said approvingly, while giving him an assessing look. "And I must say it's pleasing to me to hear that you've got manners. You've learned to control your temper and that foul mouth of yours."

Dante gave another start, and then a frown creased his brow. "How do you know about my foul mouth?" He asked.

She waved a dismissive hand. "Feh. That's common knowledge."

"To you? I don't think so!" He folded his arms over his chest. "Come on, do we have a mutual friend or somethin'?"

"You could say that." The old lady smirked.

Dante pinned her with his most intimating glare. "Okay Grandma, the joke's over. I think it's time you answered some questions... like just who the hell _are_ you?"

"Now that's the Flame Boy I expected!" She shot back, cackling at his expression. "You are right. This is not a joke. I know what I know, Dante Tager, but _how_ I happen to know is none of your concern…yet!"

Leaving the cryptic words hanging in the air, the old woman turned and glided away as if she were walking on air. Dante stared after her as the ends of the shawl she wore seemed to ripple in a non-existent breeze, fluttering about her form like long, pink streamers.

He blinked as the shadowed silhouette of a tiny and squat little woman seated on a cloud flashed into his brain, then disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him oddly shaken. _Now what the hell was that all about?_

He was strongly tempted to follow the old woman and demand some answers, but something told him it would be a waste of time to do so. If she wouldn't even give him her name, it was certain she wouldn't satisfy his curiosity about the strong sense of déjà vu he had just experienced.

_She called me Flame Boy like she knows me! _He thought angrily._ I feel like I know her, and yet I got no fucking idea why or where she came from! I__t's like somethin's been taken away from me and I can't get it back! _

A siren wailed in the distance, jolting him back to reality. As badly as he wanted an explanation for the odd feelings he was experiencing, it didn't change the fact that in the present he had responsibilities and a job to carry out. Wrestling with his personal problems would have to wait until he was off duty.

With that reminder, Dante turned and strode away in the opposite direction from the one his tiny tormentor had taken, taking comfort in the thought that he'd tell Miaka about the whole incident when they got together. He had a feeling she might understand the weird stuff he'd been experiencing lately. And if Miaka did know who Grandma was, maybe he'd be able to get a reasonable explanation for the old lady's strange behavior.

* * *

Taka Sukinami would be the first to admit that he did not know everything there was to know about life. Time and time again events served to remind him that there were things in the world that he would never be able to figure out or control. So he took comfort in the fact that in a world of uncertainty, there was one thing he knew and controlled from top to bottom. His job.

He had spent countless hours learning the ins and outs the dos and don'ts. He knew how to woo a potential client, and how to make them feel so special that they thought they had gained a new best friend or better yet, an addition to their family. He knew how to soothe an irate client with compliments and promises of tickets to the latest sports event or theatrical production. On top of that, he knew everything about the inner workings of his company and its client base like the back of this hand. Or so he had thought…until now.

He stared at the computer monitor in front of him and once again tried to access next to bottom file that it was displaying. Once again the 'access denied-password not valid' alert message popped onto the screen and he slammed his hand down on his desk, muttering curses under his breath; after an hour of trying to access this new data base, the leash he usually had on his temper had finally started to fray.

In all his time at Thornton Investments, he had _never _password protected any of his files. What was the point? His job was to woo potential clients then their cases were immediately handed over to someone higher up, so there was really no need for that precaution. When the mysterious file with the unfamiliar name had appeared in his client records, naturally he had tried to access it in the usual way, only to find it was it protected. He had over one hundred files of prospects but he checked them on a daily basis- sometimes several times a day, which gave him sound basis for accessing a file that he had never laid eyes on before. He had been getting handed more and more accounts lately due to his high acquisitions rating, so it was reasonable to think that it was a new client he hadn't yet met…but how would he know if he couldn't get into the stupid thing?

With a sigh of frustration, he leaned back in his chair to collect himself for a moment, and then reached over to press a button on his phone. "Sarah? Would you mind stepping in here please?" A few seconds after his summons, the door opened and his secretary entered with her usual bright smile.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Sukinami?"

"Have you accessed my personal client files lately?"

The smile quickly vanished under his severe look. "N-No sir! I don't ever go into those files on my own unless you gave me permission to do it!"

The genuine distress in her eyes made him regret his curtness. Sarah was an exemplary employee, and he had no real reason to think that she would have broken the rules. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have barked at you like that. It's just that someone has added two files to my client database within the past two days, and for some reason I can't open them to see what they are. If you don't know anything about them, I don't know who else to ask about it."

Sarah frowned, looking thoughtful. "No one's been in here, I would have seen them. I honestly don't know who could've added them, sir. You are the only one who gets an access code to that program. You haven't given me this week's password, so I'd only get into it if you're signed in."

Taka heaved a sigh. "You're right. Again, I really apologize. I've had a bad morning."

"I'd like to help. I could check the logs to see if-"

"Thank you, Sarah, but I can't ask you to take that on-it's my responsibility, and you have a heavy workload already."

"Honestly, I wouldn't mind! I enjoy doing extra jobs for you! Er, I mean..." She blushed, flustered. "Oh, that sounded really bad."

"Only if I took it the wrong way, which I won't." Taka said, grinning at her. "I appreciate the loyalty, and I'll take you up on the offer of overtime if it comes to that."

She smiled, still blushing. "Thank you. Is there anything else?"

"Actually, there is one more thing I'd like to make a priority; call and set up a one on one meeting for me with Mr. Thornton for Friday. His assistant is a rather formidable woman in running interference for him, and I never can seem to find the right words to get on her good side...maybe you'd have better luck convincing her I'm worth his time."

"Leave it to me!" The blonde said cheerfully."What reason should I give for requesting the meeting?"

"Tell her that it's a security issue with our bigger accounts and I need to speak with him ASAP." If he was going to get answers, it was best to start at the top. He had established a good rapport with the CEO of Thornton Investments, based on mutual interests and respect. The old man had his fingers in all aspects of the company. If someone had been tampering, he would be the one who knew how to get the answers as to where, when and why. "It's probably best if you do that right away. I know he likes to leave early on Fridays."

"Of course, sir."

* * *

When the office door had shut quietly behind his assistant, Taka leaned back in his expensive leather chair and rubbed his eyes wearily. He had a terrible hunch that he would be having to cancel his and Miaka's tentative plans for the weekend and he knew all too well what her reaction would be to the news. She would try to be a trooper, would say it was okay and that she understood, but he would know she was deeply hurt and disappointed by him as surely as if she had voiced the sentiments aloud.

God, how he hated constantly doing this to her…but he also knew there would come a time when they would both be thankful that he had put his job first. If he attained the goals he had set for himself, they could have the kind of wedding and home she deserved, Miaka would have the means to open her own restaurant, their future children would be able to attend the best schools and they would have complete financial security from the beginning of their life together to the end of their days.

_I'll make you the happiest bride in the world, my love. I meant it then and I mean it now. Just humor me a little while longer and I promise life will get so much better._

Taka glanced at his watch, and then smiled as inspiration struck him. Miaka was expecting him to call around eleven this evening, but instead he would surprise her and actually show up on her doorstep. Maybe those things and making love to her would soften the blow as well as ease the ache in his heart over disappointing her once again.

**To be continued! **

**Reviewers of this chapter will receive sweet and spicy stir fry and the how-to book sensation, 'How to Grovel and Still Be a Sexy Beast'**


	9. Chapter Nine

**Leather and Lace **

**By: Maidens of Konan**

_The rights to Fushigi Yûgi and its inhabitants belong to the very talented Yuu Watase and a host of multi-media type companies. The rights to original storylines, original characters, and the concept of Sgt. Dante Tager plus any other reincarnated identities that were concocted purely for a fan's reading pleasure belong to the author(s). Use them without written permission and be sentenced to playing fireworks roulette with a foaming-mouthed Ashitare. Takk fer det! _

_Note: A huge thank you to Chibi Kaz for her inspirational song suggestion, 'I Would Have Waited Forever' by Yes. Although I had to trim the lyrics to meet this site's TOS, it's still a great theme song for Dante, and it played a big part in the creation of this chapter. :)_

_Chapter warnings: profanity, adult situations_

**Chapter Nine **

Miaka tried very hard to suppress her smile as she entered the restaurant lobby, but knew she'd failed when Hannah De Berg called out her name. The woman's tone was buoyant, and she enthusiastically beckoned for Miaka to come over, her expression broadcasting the fact that she was fully prepared to run down and pounce upon her target if it tried to escape.

The lack of privacy in having this type of conversation at work was exasperating, and yet Miaka found herself acknowledging a strange kind of eagerness to share her news, a feeling that had her willingly capitulating to the inevitable. As she made the detour over to her friend's work station, the hostess grinned in triumph, and then lowered the volume of her voice to a discreet pitch as she asked,

"Where on_ earth_ did you meet that gorgeous sweetheart of a guy?"

"Out on the freeway yesterday, when he gave me a ticket for speeding."

Hannah was all eyes. "No _way_!"

"Yes way!"

"So after he stopped you, he found out where you worked and came here to ask you out?"

It was a partial and less complicated truth to go with, Miaka thought. Hannah seemed to have forgotten about the wadded-up shirt Dante had delivered, and any explanation of how he had come to have possession of_ it_ was best avoided in a public venue. "That's right."

"So incredibly romantic! Tell me you said yes!"

The hostess was almost crying with excitement. Despite the gravity of the situation, Miaka couldn' t resist stringing her along just a bit.

"Aren't you assuming too much when I'm in a relationship?"

"You mean that missing person relationship that's been going nowhere for months?" Hannah scoffed. "Don't roll your eyes at me, missy! Your face was an open book when you and Mr. Policeman walked out of here! You'll never convince me you're not interested in him!"

Miaka heaved a sigh. Seven months ago she would have been embarrassed to be called on her feelings, but not now. The past couple of months had seen this kind of conversation becoming a very normal part of a burgeoning friendship.

"Americans are really nosy!" She challenged, half-seriously.

"Yes, we do tend to get personally involved when we feel we're needed." Hannah shot back without batting an eye. "We also have a great deal of tenacity when it comes to rooting out the truth. So what was your answer?"

"If you really must know, I did say 'yes'."

Hannah clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her delighted squeal. "At last! Out of the clear blue sky comes the guy that can make you realize what you've been missing!" Reaching out, she clasped the younger girl's shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. "I'm so happy for you, Mia!"

"Thank you, Han-chan, but let's not get carried away. I'm still with Taka. We're going out as friends."

Even to her ears, it sounded weak.

"When pigs fly!" Hannah chortled. "The sparks were flying! The chemisty was boiling! And the intensity..." She fanned herself as she had done earlier."He was very polite, but I tell you Mia, I could have been standing there stark naked and he wouldn't have had eyes for anyone but you! That man is completely, totally and absolutely head-over-heels !"

Miaka gaped at her friend. Hearing that Hannah thought Dante had fallen that hard for her was so overwhelming, it almost made her want to deny it in case it brought a reversal of fortune. "He might like me, but how could he be head over heels when we just met yesterday?"

"I don't pretend to understand it, I just _know that _he is!" The hostess said pertly. As Miaka begain to look around them nervously, she added, "no need to be skittish. It was only obvious to me because I got a close up of _his _expression when he first caught sight of _you_." She leaned forward, and her voice dropped to just above a whisper. "Trust me, Miaka. If you want the man, he's yours!"

Miaka couldn't think of a thing to say in response. Dante had certainly demonstrated in words and deeds that he was strongly attracted to her, but she had been too caught up in the idea of her seishi being reborn to consider what feelings he may have had for her as Tasuki that would be influencing him now. Thinking of it put her mind in a whirl, butterflies in her stomach, and had her heart threatening to leave her chest.

Taka had had many dreams about her and their connection before they'd met. Those feelings had been followed up in the wonderful reality of a chance meeting.

The same thing had happened with Dante. And because of past experience, she knew that for him to be drawn to her in this world would mean Tasuki would have had some very strong feelings about her.

Feelings that she had very likely reciprocated on a subconscious level. How could she tell this to Dante? What would happen if she did?

"I know this isn't going to be an easy time for you." Hannah stated, turning completely serious. "I won't tell anyone what's going on, unless you want me to, and I won't badger you about what you're thinking or doing, just as long as you promise to call on me if you need a friend to help you sort things out. Until then, my lips are sealed."

"Thank you, Han-chan." Miaka said warmly. "I promise I will."

Confiding in Hannah wasn't as effortless as confiding in Yui yet, but she had a strong feeling it would be, given more time. The cheerful American had her own sterling qualities to bring to the table, and it was wonderful having someone nearby to talk to who was unfailingly honest and supportive. "I have to get back to the kitchen and I know you have class tonight. How about taking our lunch break together tomorrow?"

"You're on!" The other woman grinned, then spoke in a conspiratorial murmur, "by the way, McMasters was busy hitting on Brianna while you were on break. Asked her out and she went for it. She's totally giddy and won't listen to the voices of experience...apparently she thinks we're just jealous because he's not interested in _us_."

Miaka grimaced in sympathy. "At least you tried. Maybe she'll figure it out before things go too badly?"

"She seems like an intelligent girl, so maybe." Hannah said doubtfully. "If not, we'll just have to be there to help her pick up the pieces."

* * *

Despite Hannah's assertion that people hadn't been close enough to notice, Miaka found herself running a gauntlet of widely smiling, inquisitive wait-staff that clearly had seen her leaving with Dante.

It served as a warning, and she was unsurprised to be met by yet another group of stares upon entering the kitchen; some curious, some amused, and others knowing. She tried to keep her expression pleasant but unreadable as she passed her co-workers; obviously, someone had tattled about her spending her break outside with a handsome police officer. At this point all she could do to side-track comments and questions was to get to work and hope that bending over a hot stovetop would provide an excuse tp avoid conversation and a reason for the blush that would be heating her cheeks every time she thought about Dante.

She hung up the t-shirt, washed her hands in the small staff room adjoining the kitchen proper, and then resumed her duties at her station, sending a brief, wary glance around the room while she did so.

Sure enough, McMasters had zeroed in on her entrance.

He returned her glance with a cool, hard-eyed stare that had her steeling herself for the inquisition she was sure was to come, but then he surprised her by simply turning his back and barking out orders to a thoroughly cowed pastry chef. Still, she didn't dare exhale in relief until she saw her boss fall into the process of beginning his own preparations for the special main course.

Whatever else he was, Kevin McMasters was a consummate professional, and doing his best to please the restaurant's clientele took precedence over his personal life. That trait and her getting the chance to learn his superior techniques with Mongolian and Tibetan grilled dishes were the reasons she had put up with the man's attentions for as long as she had.

But she shouldn't have to put up with anything, Dante was right about that. It didn't matter if Kevin hosted unationally syndicated cooking shows, or if he'd been the feature subject of articles in the top three fine dining magazines in the world. He was a world class chef, yes, but that didn't mean he was allowed to take personal liberties with his employees. And even if other assistants treated him as some sort of a god just because he had an agent, that didn't mean he couldn't be put in his place when he was wrong-which she was now resolved to do at the first opportunity.

She moved with determination to one of six stoves set into a counter in the middle of the large room. Picking up a shaker of cayenne pepper, she added a liberal dose to a fragrant sauce simmering in a big aluminum pot.

"Way to go, Yuuki." A nasal voice murmured into her ear. "You do realize that Kevin got his undies in a bunch when he heard you two went off together, don't you? I can tell he won't be thinking about anything or anyone else but you for the rest of the day."

Miaka turned an affectionate smile towards the tall, sable-haired man standing beside her. Although his tone had been light, his finely wrought features were marred by a frown. "Alan dear, don't be like that. You know I don't care what Kevin thinks about me except when it comes to cooking." Her smile softened the edge in her voice. "There's no reason for you to be jealous of my standing with him, and there never will be. I have no interest in being around the man other than at work."

Her co-worker made a face. "I know, I know. Ignore me. I'm feeling bitchy because he's been lusting after the new waitress." Brown eyes flecked with gold narrowed in speculation. "Perhaps I should follow your example and try ignoring him. Lord knows all my pathetic ass kissing hasn't been getting me anywhere."

"Did you ever consider that the reason you're not getting anywhere is because McMasters isn't gay?"

"As a matter of fact I have, Miss Smarty Pants! But a man can hope, can't he? It wouldn't be the first time a closeted gay guy has acted like a Lothario in order to hide or deny his true tendencies!"

"I wouldn't know about _that,"_ Miaka said, grinning, "but I_ do_ know that if anyone can out him, you're the man!"

Alan's eyes grew large, then crinkled with amusement. "My goodness! To get such a ringing endorsement from the straightest person I know..." he paused to clutch his chest dramatically, "... mere words cannot express the happiness that dwells within the portals of this unworthy heart!"

Stumped for a comeback, she made a face that caused the sous chef to laugh and teasingly bump hips with her. "Something else just occurred to me, though," he said in a more serious tone. "What if Kevin guessed I have a thing for him? God, that would be a disaster, that's the surest way of scaring a closet case off!" He nibbled anxiously on a fingernail, and then stopped with a grimace. "Damn! I have to go wash my hands again!"

"Maybe it'll teach you to leave those nails alone!" Miaka told him unsympathetically. "And to answer your question, no, I don't think he's guessed how you feel. To be honest, I don't even think he even knows that you're gay! If he's noticed the way you like hanging around him, it's because he thinks you look up to him- you know, like a role model or a mentor."

"Meh." Alan sighed. "That's both irritating and a relief. I've taken great pains not to act jealous around him, I can't afford any more disasters since that incident a few months back..."

He paused, a smirk tugging at his mouth as he waited for Miaka to inquire.

She humored him. "An incident? What was that?"

"It was just before you started here. Kevin was shacked up for a awhile with this tall and curvy redheaded woman. You can imagine my disappointment, but I did my best to be friendly to her. Probably overcompensated, but whatever. Despite my charming demeanor, for some reason she took a dislike to me. She ignored me at parties, derided my catering creations in front of the staff, and sent in complaints about my cooking every time she ate here. After that, jealousy was the least of the reasons I didn't like her, but I tried even harder to be professional because she was in a position to get me fired."

Miaka nodded encourgingly as she stirred. "So then what happened?"

"The incident I'm talking about happened during a late dinner she was having here while waiting for Kevin. The person waiting on her was a young male trainee, and he got flustered when she flirted and displayed her considerable charms to get him to pour extra amounts of high priced liquor on the complimentary dish of her favorite dessert-cherries jubilee- that I had sent out to appease her complaints. She finally succeeded in getting the kid to bring her a glass, but he still had enough wits about him to say he hadn't yet mastered the training to safely light a dessert that was literally swimming in one hundred and fifty proof alcohol. She argued, of course, and Kevin came over to see what the problem was, and then ..." he took a deep breath,"...to prove her point that, as she put it, 'any schmuck could do it'_,_ she took the torch from the waiter and lit the dish herself."

Miaka gaped at him in horror. "Let me guess. A disaster in the making?"

"Oh yes. Luckily the trainee had a large serving dish and towel handy to smother the conflagration!"

"That's awful. I hope she wasn't burned?"

"No, not really. She was bending over to light the dish, but jerked back just in time. Her hair- eyebrows and four inches of her braid- got the brunt of the heat, but were only badly singed. What was untouched reeked of burnt alcohol, a scent which I know has a tendency to soak in for weeks. She tried, but no amount of shampooing could banish it."

"That's awful."

"Yes, especially since she was a model for hair products." Alan said. "She was very pragmatic about cutting it all off, saying it was better to start over than to have to live with people saying 'what's that funny smell?' whenever she walked into a room."

Though it was an unfortunate situation, Miaka was having a hard time holding back a giggle. "It sounds to me like she had a sense of humor."

"True, I have to give her credit for that. But then she started making noises about a lawsuit for compensation for loss of income, and oh, did Kevin put the cabash on that! She'd thrown her weight around and taken matters into her own hands instead of listening to his trainee. He told her that she brought everything on herself, and they were through if she tried to go after the restaurant. There was nothing she could do but sign the waiver form if she wanted to keep Kevin around."

"Oh my. I know she was wrong but...he wasn't sympathetic at all about her hair?"

"Of course he was. He bought her a very expensive wig to use on photo shoots until her hair grew back. It was very lovely, looked completely natural." Alan's sigh of regret was less than sincere. "Unfortunately, right after that Kevin developed a severe skin allergy and it was determined he was allergic to the undetectable fumes from the chemicals in the wig's synthetic scalp."

"Uh oh."

"Exactly." Leaning forward, Alan finished in a hushed tone. "They had it out in the parking lot after work one night. He told her she had to get rid of the wig before they got into the car. She told him quite emphatically to suck it up, that he could get allergy shots. He hated needles, so he got rid of the rash by breaking up with her."

Miaka couldn't help chucking along with her friend's evil cackle, but a thought quickly sobered her.

"You know, Alan, what you just told me and from what I've observed, even if he were gay, it wouldn't change a thing about him. Kevin doesn't care about anyone or anything except his job. He'd discard you like an old wrung-out dishrag the moment you disagreed with him or ceased to be of use."

"I am fully aware of his personality flaws." Alan replied quietly. "He's a hard person to know, but I've managed to glean a little information that tells me there's a lot more to him than meets the eye."

She was skeptical. "Like what?"

"He donates part of his paycheck to a children's hospital. He cooks gourmet suppers for a low income assisted living place here in town a few times a year. And he's a sucker for environmental causes."

She was impressed, even though she didn't want to be. "Really?"

"Yes. And most importantly, he knows a good thing when he sees it. I know I've given you a bad time, and here's why. I'm worried because you are a person of substance who loves completely and unconditionally. Kevin sees that, and he wants it."

She was momentarily stunned by the compliment, one that she knew wasn't easily given. "Oh Alan. Thank you. But you would be the same to anyone who was lucky enough to win your heart."

"And what I wouldn't give for the chance to prove it." His smile was bleak.

Throwing down her chopping knife, Miaka put a gentle hand on her friend's arm. " I hate seeing you torturing yourself over someone who doesn't have the capacity to return your feelings! Is it so impossible to forget him? I want you to be happy!"

Golden eyes regarded her with something approaching tenderness. "If you truly want me to be happy, then allow me my hopes and dreams. Having fantasies about having the unattainable can't hurt one, if one realizes and accepts that they're only an illusion."

She blinked hard. "I understand that. But-"

"Which brings us back to my original question!" Alan added, firmly cutting off any further protests. "Start dishing, honey-bun! What's up with you and that deliciously buff hunk of flame-haired man-meat?"

Miaka sighed. As with Hannah, she knew there was no way to side track the good-natured inquistion. Alan Thompson was just as outspoken and opinionated about her lack of a love life as she was about his, if not more so. He had also proven to be a surprisingly understanding confidante once he had found out that she had absolutely no interest in Kevin McMasters. Even better, since Alan was openly gay, Taka hadn't had any objections to the two of them hanging out at work, or doing things outside of it as friends.

They had certainly shared some fun times, but nevertheless, there was still an aloofness about Alan, a kind of watchful edginess, that sometimes made her question just how much genuine liking for her he had and how much of their friendship was based on him wanting to keep tabs on her.

Maybe it was a good idea to reveal her feelings for Dante. If Alan knew how she felt, he'd realize once and for all that he had nothing to fear from her. She'd make it clear to him that McMasters had no chance, that Dante was-

Her train of thought was broken as a long fingered hand waved gracefully in front of her face.

"This is a lot more serious than I thought! Just who _is_ this mystery man who has our single-minded Ms. Yuuki so wrapped up in daydreams and adding copious amounts of cayenne to a sauce that is supposed to be mild?" Without asking, he reached over her shoulder to grab the pepper can out of her hand. "Have to be careful with the hot stuff, honey, or you'll burn your tongue."

She grabbed the basil leaves she had been chopping and tossed them into the sauce. "Some people like it spicy."

"Very true." Alan smirked. "Which brings us back to the subject of Officer Hottie. My source tells me he was here on a personal visit."

Miaka bent over the sauce pot and briskly stirred its contents, glad that her cheeks were already flushed from the heat of the stove. "He knows me, yes."

"Does Taka know that you're bosom buddies with a policeman?"

She hesitated, and Alan's eyebrows went up. "So Taka doesn't know? Great Googly Moogly! Does this mean Mr. Hot Stuff is new boyfriend material?"

She knew he wouldn't let it go until she threw him a bone. "It's complicated, Alan. For now, let's just say he's a special someone that I wanted to get to know better and leave it at that."

From the sound of his voice, she could tell he was grinning. "But that's wonderful! And about time!"

"About time for _what_? Kiss and tell, or getting back to work?"

The two sous-chefs jumped guiltily as their boss came to a standstill behind them.

As ice blue eyes skewered her, Miaka had to fight the urge to take a step away.

_He knows Dante was kissing me!_ She thought in sudden panic. _But we were out of sight of the building. How could he have seen that unless he sent someone to spy on me while I was on break? No, no, no, what am I saying? He wouldn't go that far! He's just trying to intimidate me, that's all. _

"Actually, Miaka and I were just discussing the in-depth article on Tibetan specialty dishes in last Sunday's Gazette!" Alan smoothly fibbed, drawing the chef's attention back to him. "I was telling her that it was about time they did a teach and learn piece with you on the cuisine from that region of the world. Tibet is such an isolated and inaccessible country, and having someone with your mastery and knowledge of their cultural and cooking traditions here in the Springs is an extraordinary thing."

Miaka remained silent, watching McMasters' countenance going from a frozen glare to the aspect of a man dethawing after an ice storm.

"Well, thank you." He said. "I was quite pleased that they chose to feature the more remote regional cuisines in which I specialize. But I must say the article fell short of my expectations..." the master chef shook his head, and conveyed the reason for his disappointment as two men began to turn away from her. "Considering the wide variety of questions and the detailed answers I gave, I would have thought the writer would have wanted to focus on the essence of the cultural and religious traditions involved in preparing to make the dishes instead of merely giving a rote listing of the process to the end result."

Alan nodded. "I completely agree. In fact, I have some questions about that if you wouldn't mind…"

As the two men wandered off and her boss soaked in his assistant's obvious admiration, Miaka smiled and turned back to her work, sending a silent thank you to Alan. She owed him for taking the heat and directing attention away from her, and if it served his own interests, so much the better.

She glanced at the clock. Three more hours and then she could go home and wait for Dante to call.

It seemed like an eternity.

With a sigh, she picked up the container of cayenne pepper that Alan had discarded.

A minute later, she found herself still holding the canister and grinning stupidly at it.

'Hot Stuff' really was a great nickname for Dante.

* * *

Dante strode into the precinct building with the single minded determination that he'd make short work of changing his clothes and writing up the reports he had to file. Nothing was going to interfere with his calling Miaka tonight if he had anything to say about it.

As he strode down the stairs that led to the changing room, he mentally crossed his fingers, hoping that it would be unoccupied. If someone was in there, he'd have to be polite and talk to them if they felt the need to chat which would take up too much valuable time.

Thankfully, there was no sign of life in the white-walled, windowless enclosure.

He walked straight to his locker, opened it, set his hat on the upper shelf, kicked off his shoes, and then proceeded to quickly peel off his sweaty uniform and socks. A sigh of contentment escaped him as the draft from the air conditioning vent dried his sweaty skin. It felt so good and did such an effective job of cooling him off, he debated about whether or not he needed to take a shower. However, one quick, tentative sniff of an armpit quickly changed his mind.

With a grimace, Dante hung up his uniform next to his street clothes, grabbed an unwrapped bar of soap sitting next to his hat, and then slammed the locker door shut. Clad only in his briefs, he padded across the room to the recessed cubicle that held two bathroom stalls and three enclosed showers.

Just in time he remembered to grab a towel; he detoured to a nearby shelf and took two, blithely ignoring the large sign on the wall that shouted 'HELP SAVE ON LAUNDRY COSTS: ONE TOWEL PER BODY!' After choosing the endmost shower stall, he finished disrobing, slung the towels on the provided bench together with his briefs, and then stepped into the shower proper.

He checked the nozzle, adjusting it to his height before turning it on with an expert flick of the wrist. His eyes closed in bliss as a pulsating spray of hot water began to massage his tense, overheated muscles.

It was unfortunate that only one side of him got the benefit of the heated spray while the other was literally left out in the cold. Wistfully, he pictured himself sitting in his Jacuzzi with a beer and soft music playing in the background, then shook off the image. He should be grateful that these showers were here for his use at all.

He took up the soap and started briskly lathering himself. It wasn't so bad; all he had to do was think of something to warm him up. Something like...

The vision of a naked Miaka pressing up against him as she ran soapy hands over his back more than did the trick. Desire ran through him like wildfire, and hee was vaguely surprised that the water bouncing off his skin wasn't turning to steam. As he felt his nether region becoming heavy and thick with need, he cursed. If he were at home, it wouldn't be a problem, but at work...

He turned to shut off the hot water, muttering and cussing some more as the pulsating warm stream changed to stabbing needles of ice.

In a minute, he was thoroughly chilled, distinctly unaroused and ready to get out. Cranking the faucets shut with force than necessary, he gingerly stepped out of the shower, shivering violently in the air conditioning as he did so. The tiled floor was slick from splattered water droplets, so he tossed one of the towels on the floor for traction and began to dry himself with the other.

Two bBooming, echoing voices in what sounded like an exchange of banter told him he was no longer alone. Without thinking much about it, he tuned him into the conversation taking place near the lockers, and his interest peaked as he recognized that the voices as belonging to two of his co-workers in Investigations; a seasoned veteran transfer from Chicago, Cody LaConte, and a rookie fresh out of the local police academy whose name escaped Dante at that moment.

His toweling motions had continued as he idly listened to their shop talk, but his arms froze in place as a single name captured his full attention.

"So how's the Sukinami case been coming together for you, Cody?"

"Not so well. I've been working on it from a different angle since Tager got reassigned, but it's a stalemate right now." LaConte's chuckle was grim. "Sukinami's made friends in some pretty high corporate places, and they've been keeping the guy far out of our reach."

"That's a bummer." The other man said with sympathy. "Have you tried his girlfriend? Maybe she could get him to talk to you."

At hearing that, warning bells went off in Dante's mind and his eyes narrowed_. How does the kid know about Miaka? Discussing logistics on _Sukinami is one thing, but there's no need for him to know about her.

Courtesy dictated that he should be announcing his presence right then and there. But now that Miaka was part of the conversation, there was no way he was going to interrupt. Someone had said or done something they shouldn't have, and he was going to find out who.

"A good idea, but highly doubtful." LaConte replied glumly. "From the reports, Sukinami is into his job way more than her- he's a company man through and through. From what I've deduced, the pictures in the society page pretty much are the extend of their social contact. Kind of hard to understand, from all accounts she's a very pretty girl."

Dante's smile of agreement was wiped away by the younger man's reply.

"Kinda lame description of her, C.L." The younger man asserted. "I could do better from the pictures I saw."

LaConte asked the question Dante was on fire to ask. "What pictures would those be?"

"Murray in surveillance had some of her from a stake out he did- he has a thing for Asian women, you know. He was totally into her, kept talking about her like she was some kind of a goddess. We gave him a bad time about her being a figment of his imagination, so he brought a few stills from the file and passed 'em around at lunch the other day."A low whistle followed the pronouncement."Let me tell ya, he wasn't exaggerating. Every guy there was droolin' over 'em!"

_Murray did that? _Dante clenched his jaw and his fists as he fought to stay calm. _He's a veteran! He knows better than to think with his dick!_

"Drooling would be her specialty." LaConte said, sounding amused. "She's a chef at the Phoenix."

The younger man made a sound of amazement. "Dude! Either Sukinami is light in the loafers or he needs a shrink! I sure as hell wouldn't be pullin' overtime if a girl like that was into me!"

"He's not gay." LaConte stated. "He's taking his woman for granted."

"That clinches it, I need to bribe Murray for some more info on her. She can do better, and what better person for her to lean on in her time of need than a handsome young cop?"

_Too bad for you she's already got one_. Dante thought grimly. Thoughts of punishing the hapless Murray were the only thing keeping his temper in check. Bad enough that a man who had so many commendations had stooped to this level, but to know Miaka was now the subject of locker room talk...

_I'm gonna kick his ass to Topeka and back for passin' around those photos! _

Biting down on the urge to throw something, he went back to listening.

LaConte was making noncommittal noises to his cohort's ideas for hooking up with Miaka.

"Aw c 'mon, C.L., I know you have a heart! She's a long way from home, and probably really lonely. Don't you think I'd have a chance?"

"Sure you do." LaConte paused for a beat. "As much chance as you have climbing Pike's Peak in a day-"

"A great chance then," Tom interjected smugly.

"-when you're ninety five."

"Oh." The young man sounded deflated. "Really? No chance?"

"I wouldn't say _no_ chance." LaConte relented. "But I'd say the odds are such that you don't stand much of one unless your last name is Sukinami."

"I wonder what she's like to talk to." The younger man said, now sounding a bit wistful. "She definitely doesn't look like she belongs with the uppity, hard-faced bitch society. She has one of those great smiles that lights up her face, you know? And even if she's sexy...she still looks like the kind of girl you could take home to the parents and they'd love her."

_You're fuckin' right on about that one, buddy._ Dante thought grimly. _Not that you're ever gonna get the chance to find out._

"I've never met her, but everyone I've interviewed has positive things to say about her." LaConte said reflectively. "Have to say that if she would cut ties with Sukinami, you'd most likely have competition from the other guys."

"Not if I get there first."

"Good luck. You'd still be acting on borrowed time."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"I mean if her application of permanent residency doesn't go through because of this business of Sukinami's, she's most likely out of here."

"What? No way! If she's not...I mean, they can't really do that, can they?"

"I'm afraid they can, Tom. Sukinami vouched for her on the paperwork, and on top of that he's helping her out with various expenses- as well as putting up half the rent for her apartment. If he doesn't cooperate and gets the book thrown at him. I doubt the INS will look favorably on her application or even on extending her visa."

"But that's not fair! She hasn't done anything wrong!" Tom's furious protest echoed Dante's own thoughts.

"I know. But that's life. No matter how innocent you are, you're still gonna be judged by the company you keep."

There was a long pause.

"Damn, but that _really __sucks_."

"Yep. It sure does."

* * *

There was the sound of two locker doors being slammed, followed by a fading exchange of farewells as the detectives walked out the door.

Dante released the breath he had been holding into the dead silence.

His displeasure at hearing other men salivating over Miaka's attributes was nothing compared to hearing of her dependence on Taka Sukinami. The man was the key to her being here, and he could be the reason she had to leave. But as much as it galled him to think she could be denied residency because of her association with Sukinami, it was even more galling to know exactly how much he owed the man. Was there any way he could get around the guilt of endangering the livelihood of the guy who'd almost died saving Miaka's life, much less that he was actively pursuing stealing her away from him?

After a few more moments of thinking and agitatation, he gave it up as a bad job, put on his briefs, tossed the wet towels in a nearby laundry tub and headed for his locker. Throwing open the door, he dressed quickly in jeans and a dark blue CSPD t-shirt, and then paused to stare at himself in the small mirror mounted inside the locker door.

Miaka had applied for permanent residency. Even if things weren't going well with her relationship, she was making a commitment to stay.

Which meant if the case messed up her visa or her application for permanent residency, her having to leave would be his fault.

He couldn't let that happen. He'd find a way to fix it. Or fight it.

Even if she rejected his help, he'd never walk away from her.

A hot, prickling sensation seared his forearm. He looked down, unsurprised to see his phoenix tattoo growing brighter and much more pronounced in outline. After a long, reflective moment, his gaze returned to the mirror. Slowly and deliberately, he ran his fingers through his hair until it was free of its comb-back and his bangs fell forward to their usual spot over his brow; he then uncovered the rat-tail braid and pulled it forward so that it curled around the side of his neck.

The only thing missing from the image was a necklace and his favorite set of earrings, which he had left at home at his chief's request. But it felt like something else was missing too- something he always had around his person.

His hand slid down to the center of his chest, and then back up to his shoulder. His gun holster?

But he wasn't packing that on patrol.

And there was nothing more aggravating than not being able to figure out what was going on in his own head.

Muttering in frustration, he grabbed his uniform and bundled it into the back pack lying at the bottom of his locker- he had always preferred bringing his own shoulder pack to the CSPD standard issue duffle bag; it simply felt more natural and comfortable to carry his stuff that way.

He zipped the pack shut, slung it over one shoulder and then froze in place, still thinking hard. He was having one of his gut feelings- this one said that there were legitimate reasons for these spells of fantasy growing stronger.

Everything he'd felt from his first encounter with Miaka to talking with the weird old lady said that there was some pretty weird karma going on here.

Was it a flashback? A memory? Something his subcoscious was trying to tell him?

Whatever it was, he was determined to find out why it was happening. There had to be scientific or paranormal research on this kind of thing.

And hell, as long as he was at it, why not look into if there was any earthly explanation for his tattoo lighting up like a neon sign whenever he thought of Miaka?

Dante glanced at the clock on the wall. He had tons of unanswered questions, but they would have to wait. It was time to get moving on the work-related matters that he needed to deal with, starting with confronting Officer Murray on his highly unacceptable lapse in judgment.

* * *

It was three and a half hours after her conversation with Alan had ended that Miaka retrieved her purse, t-shirt, and a bottle of mineral water from the staff room refrigerator, and tiptoed out the back door of the Phoenix Grill's kitchen. She hated leaving without a word of goodbye to anyone, but it was necessary in to order to avoid any further confrontations with her boss. Even now she half expected Kevin to sense her departure and come after her, but thankfully he was deep in conversation with a manager from second shift and she was able to escape, undetected.

Disregarding the blazing heat that assailed her when she emerged from the building, she broke into a half-run, making a beeline for the side lot where her car was parked. Once inside, she locked the doors, started the engine and cranked the air conditioning on high before unscrewing the cap to the bottled water. She took several deep, grateful gulps of the cold liquid, then placed the cool plastic of the bottle against her cheek and neck.

_I need a nice, long shower and a good meal._ She thought tiredly. _I'll stop at the corner shop and pick up some fixings for supper._ The little market was more expensive than the chain grocery stores, but it was also less crowded, always stocked fresh specialty produce and was only a block from her apartment, which made it worth the extra dollars.

Time was of the essence, nothing was going to make her miss Dante's call.

* * *

Dante strode out of the precinct building with a spring in his step and a glint in his eye that spoke of having successfully accomplished his objectives.

Murray hadn't denied the incident when confronted with it, and had taken the severe chewing out he had been given like a man. Afterwards, he had quietly apologized for his transgression, and his sincerity had been quite apparent, Dante lost the desire to write him up as procedure dictated that he should have done. The two of them had been on the investigations team since its inception, after all, and as long as Murray was now square on what was acceptable conduct regarding surveillance photos of women, Dante was fine with leaving it there.

After that, the rest of his paperwork had gone well and since there had been no emergency meetings, he was now free for the night. A smile of anticipation spread across his face as he thought about getting to call Miaka far earlier than anticipated.

As he reached his SUV, another thought struck him. He was only a few blocks from her apartment, and he knew Miaka hadn't any plans that evening...so why couldn't he just bop on over there and take her out for supper? She didn't seem the type to mind drop-ins…and if he was lucky, she might even be in the mood to pick up where they had left off the other night…

His smile had grown to epic proportions by the time he unlocked the door, clambered into the SUV and fastened his seat belt. However, it quickly faded as he glanced out the passenger window and spotted Detective Cody LaConte getting into the sedan parked next to him.

LaConte turned his head, caught his gaze, and gave him a cheerful little wave, which Dante returned halfheartedly. Seeing his replacement on the Sukinami case was an unpleasant reminder that he hadn't been forthcoming about his job with Miaka.

_She might break things off when she finds out __- but I'm not gonna think that way! She's fair, and __ I know s__he'll give me a chance!_

As he waited for LaConte and a couple of other coworkers to leave their parking spaces, Dante flipped on the radio and tuned in his favorite station. When the cars had left, he backed out and followed them sedately, not wanting to attract their attention by any displays of haste.

Predictably, an ornery inner voice was cursing him for the enforced delay, and he silenced it with the reminder that only minutes remained until Miaka was back in his arms.

* * *

Taka grinned in anticipation as he made his way up the stairway to Miaka's apartment. A quick glance at his watch a moment before confirmed that his plans were, so far, coming along very well. He had timed this little surprise perfectly, making sure he was able to leave the office in time to arrive at the apartment just shortly after Miaka got home from work. He knew from experience that she would be tired and sore from standing all day, and his fingers were just itching to work the kinks out of her tense muscles.

He'd be able to do it every day if she were waiting for him to come home to her.

Thinking about Miaka's insistence that they live apart change his secretive smile to a scowl of discontent.

He knew he didn't show it often enough, but he truly missed being able to do all the sweet, intimate little things they used to do, like spending time curled up together on the rug in front of his fireplace. He knew she did as well, and so he still didn't understand why it was that she refused to move in with him. He had tried to explain to her several times that besides being able to see a lot more of each other, not to mention more cost efficient for them bothe if they shared a residence, but Miaka would have none of it.

Not wanting to spoil the mood for love, Taka pushed all troubled thoughts aside in favor of imagining the look of surprise on his beloved's face when she saw him. In a few seconds his grin had reappeared and his slow, stepping gait had quickened to a jog. When he arrived at her door he went to knock on it, then stopped. With a thought that it would add to the surprise if he let himself in, he reached into his trousers pocket.

His key rattled a bit in the lock but the door opened silently, as he had hoped.

All was still and quiet within the apartment. He called out. "Miaka?"

No answer. Frowning in concern, Taka closed the door behind him and flipped the deadbolt lock into place. Then he sneezed. Looking down, he met the cool, assessing stare of Miaka's cat, Mizu. As was the norm in Taka's presence, the Siamese's back was stiffly arched and his slightly kinked tail was twitching back and forth in a manner that could only be described as unwelcoming.

He crouched down, his hand extended, only to retract it hastily as the cat hissed and swiped at it with a paw.

_Damn cat thinks he owns her. If only I could talk her into getting a dog…but nah, I couldn't do that. She loves the little hairball, so I'll have to keep trying. He's just acting tough. Sooner or later he'll have no choice about eating out of my hand._

He decided to try the direct approach_._

"I'm sorry for startling you, Mizu. I know you don't like me, and I accept that. But can't we call a truce? I'd be grateful if you would allow me to pass."

The animal continued to glare for a moment. Then, emitting something that sounded like a contemptuous snort, it grudgingly submitted to the request, stretching out in a reclining position, eyes unblinking and fixed on its human nemesis, tail swishing back and forth in a languid motion.

"Thank you, Your Highness." Taka murmured, bowing sarcastically. "I'm in your debt."

He moved forward, thinking he was home free. A nasty swipe at his exposed ankle convinced him otherwise. With a muttered curse, he managed to evade damage, but knew better than to make the mistake of gloating or scolding the cat. It had a worse way of getting even, and he didn't want his expensive clothing smelling of cat pee.

He glanced around the dividing wall into the living room. Finding it empty, he made his way down to the kitchen. A quick look inside revealed a brown grocery bag and various foodstuffs sitting on the counter but still no Miaka. Then, as he turned into the hallway that led to the bathroom and the apartment's two bedrooms, he heard running water and a feminine voice singing in Japanese coming from her bathroom.

He crept down the hall, pushed on the door so that the opening was big enough to admit him, and stealthily entered the steamy room beyond. Once inside, he could see the outline of Miaka's nude body behind the frosted glass of the shower door. From the movements of her arms, he guessed she was shampooing her hair and his body quickly responded to that knowledge. Although he had seen her naked more times than he could count, every time was like the first.; the perfection of her small frame always made him breathless with desire, and the beauty of her blushing modesty never failed to fill his heart with tenderness.

She was still singing, but she had switched to a different tune; he smiled as he recognized the song as a current j-pop favorite about a girl rediscovering an ancient but timeless love.

An idea materialized and his hands immediately carried it out, making short work of removing his suit; soon he was at opening of the corner shaped enclosure, wearing nothing but a very sly grin. Luckily, Miaka had her back turned to him and was too wrapped up in singing to notice his presence.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled on the shower door until it opened and immediately caught his breath at the beautiful, glistening body that was revealed to his avid gaze. It was at times like this, he thought, that memories of his past life struck him in force; her gracefully arched back, upturned face and blissful expression as she received the flow of water made her look exactly like she had during her purification ritual before the Ceremony to summon Suzaku.

It was hard to believe that he'd found her again over ten years ago. Yes, her breasts had filled out to more womanly proportions and the span of her hips might have widened a bit, but to him, she looked as youthful and supple as the fifteen year old girl with which he- and Tamahome- had both fallen in love.

He stepped into the shower and closed the door, the sound of his movements concealed by the gush of water and her voice. He hesitated, savoring the sweet anticipation of the moment…and then reached out to run his forefinger down the middle of her back.

Miaka's reaction was only half of what he had been expecting. He had known the song would abruptly turn to a sharp, high pitched shriek and that she would whirl around to confront him exactly the way she did. However, instead of laughing and falling into his embrace, she backed away, covering her breasts with one arm as the other struck out at him with a ferocity born of severe fright. Instinctively, he lunged backwards into the wall behind him to avoid the blows, and grimaced as his shoulders and buttocks smacked painfully against cold ceramic tile.

"Miaka! It's okay! It's only me!" He reached out to take hold of her flailing arm, and then let out a loud curse as he slipped and had to catch himself by grabbing the towel bar.

She stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes as he righted himself. "T-Taka! What...what in the world are _you _doing here?"

Her voice could barely be heard above the sounds of water beating against tile and glass, and her chest was rising and falling with each of her short, rapid breaths.

He wiped excess water from his eyes and mouth smiled wryly. "I arranged to get off work early today so I could come and surprise you."

"_Surprise me_?" She echoed, as auburn eyebrows lowered ominously over green eyes. "You scared the absolute living daylights out of me! As far as I knew, you could have been anyone! What were you thinking, sneaking up on me like that?"

Apparently he had scared her far worse than it first appeared, because she certainly wasn't falling into the giggly, amorous mood that she normally did in these kind of situations. Had it really been that long since he'd done this sort of thing, that she really wouldn't expect it? He thought about it, and then closed his eyes as the sick realization hit him that he couldn't immediately recall the last time he had visited Miaka right after work.

And with that realization, came the certainty that he had a lot of groveling to do to get himself back into her good graces.

His eyes opened, and he gave her his most apologetic look as his brain frantically searched for a sure fire way to make things right. His intentions were good, yet he honestly couldn't help it when his gaze followed the enticing sway of her breasts as Miaka brushed back the wet tendrils of hair that had become plastered to her cheeks. He could feel his flesh hardening in response, which doubled the urgency to his making amends.

"I'm sorry, Mi-chan…let me make it up to you?" His eyes were soft with love and seductive intent as he moved closer. "How about if I wash your back for you…you always love that...and maybe some other things…?"

His hands lifted, reaching for the globes of flesh that had been tantalizing him.

To his astonishment, she took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I appreciate the thought, but it's time for me to get out!" Her smile was tight as she showed him the rippled fingertips of one hand. "My skin is starting to prune, and besides that, I have groceries to put away! But stay and take a nice, relaxing shower if you like."

As Taka stared into chilly green eyes, his desire went into rapid decline. "I'm really sorry, Miaka."

"You should be!" She said, not unkindly.

"I am, I am! And that's why I hoped... that there was something I could do to help relax you after upsetting you so badly."

Her eyes warmed- a little. "I appreciate the thought, Taka, but honestly, all I need is some space right now. I've gotten used to having this time to decompress from work." _And if you ever came here at this time even occasionally you would know that, _her underlying tone stated."I'm just not in the mood to relax that way."

As badly as he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss away her objections, Taka wasn't a fool; a vital part of his job was to read people, and his beloved's expression and body language were making it very plain that forcing the issue of sex would be a huge mistake.

"Fine, I'll give you your space," he said gruffly. "Is it all right to ask you for a hello kiss before you go do this unwinding of yours?"

"Of course." She went on tiptoe to brush her lips against his in a brief emulation of a kiss. "See you in a bit."

Before he could respond or protest, she had pulled away, pushed the shower door open, and scooted out of his reach.

* * *

_"So in between the perfect flame of you, this love will never let you down…just take it as it comes…for everything will come around." _

Singing along with the song on his stereo and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, Dante drove slowly through the crowded lot in front of Miaka's apartment complex.

His eyes scanned the rows of cars, and then lit up when he saw an open spot conveniently located next to Miaka's red LeBaron. He accelerated and quickly swung into it just as another car rounded the corner.

"_I would have waited forever, for you to return into my life, I would have waited forever, I would have given you everything I had …"_

Still singing, Dante switched off the ignition, and then checked his appearance out in the rear view mirror. Satisfied with what he saw, he got out of the vehicle, making sure to secure all of the locks before slamming the door.

He finished singing the song as he jogged across the lot to the stairway leading to Miaka's apartment.

_"I would have waited forever, no question in my body and soul. Forever…" _

* * *

Miaka had just thrown on a t-shirt and shorts when she heard the door buzzer sound. "More unexpected company." She muttered. "Who could that be?"

She exited the bedroom, shut the bathroom door where Taka was taking her up on her suggestion to take an extra long shower, and then went to peer through the peephole.

"Oh…"

With trembling fingers she quickly turned the deadbolt and yanked opened the door. "Dante!"

She felt as if her soul was smiling.

"Miaka!" He replied with a happy befanged grin. "How's it goin'? Whatcha been up to?"

Before she could answer, a streak of gray had shot between her ankles. "Mizu! Come back here!" She exclaimed in surprise. It was rare for her heat sensitive cat to show any desire to venture outdoors before sundown.

"It's all right- he just wanted to say hi, that's all." Dante said, crouching down to stroke her pet, who was busily rubbing up against his ankles. "Whazzup, pussycat?" He asked, then snickered as the feline responded right on cue.

"This is a wonderful surprise!" She said, as he gave Mizu a final stroke and stood up. "I thought you would still be at work!"

"I managed to get out on time today!" He responded happily. "I was gonna go home and call ya, but then I thought, what the hell- I'm in the neighborhood, so why not deliver the message in person?" His gaze boldly strayed down her body, taking note of her wet hair and the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. "I'm sorry, did I get ya out of the shower or somethin'?"

She blushed. "No! I just had gotten-" Her mouth rounded into an 'o' of dismay and her eyes widened. Taka! Taka was still in the shower!

"Miaka, what is it?" Dante asked, frowning. "Are you feelin' dizzy again? Why don't we go in and-"

"No, you can't go in there!" She said frantically.

He gave her a baffled look. "Why not?"

She opened her mouth to explain, only to be spared the trouble as Taka's laughing voice rang out into the hallway.

"Oi, Mi-chan! You stole all the towels!"

Closing her eyes against the sight of Dante's frozen expression, Miaka silently wished for a dimensional rift to open up and swallow her where she stood.

After what seemed an eternity, but was merely a few long, tense seconds, Taka called out again. She didn't answer. Mizu pawed at her leg, but she remained mute and rooted to the spot, trying to think of what she could do, or what she could possibly say to dispel the terrible things Dante must be thinking about her in that moment.

The first thing that came to mind was that she should at least be looking at him, so _he_ could see that she wasn't trying to hide anything.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, only to find her vision obscured by tears. Blinking hard in a futile attempt to clear them, she finally averted her gaze and spoke in a trembling voice.

"Dante, I know how this must look to you, but I swear I didn't know he was coming over! I was taking a shower, and he totally surprised me, and … w-we _didn't _shower together! Well, he _did _sneak into the shower with me, but I yelled at him and got out right away-_oh_!"

She gasped and her eyes opened wide as she felt herself being grabbed by her upper arms and propelled forward. A navy blue clad, tightly muscled chest loomed in front of her face, then obliterated the rest of her words. Steely arms wrapped around her body, providing both comfort and support.

"I believe ya." Dante said quietly. "It's my fault. My droppin' in like this wasn't fair…I shoulda called first."

She wound her arms tightly about his waist. "Don't say that! I love that you surprised me!" Her voice was fierce. "Please, I don't want you to leave-"

"Mi-chan! I can't find any clean towels!"

Miaka cringed. Taka's voice had drastically increased in volume, and held a distinct note of annoyance.

"All right. Ya better go get the damn towels or he'll have a fuckin' heart attack!" Dante growled.

"O-Okay! I'll be right back! Don't go anywhere!"

His smile was borderline feral. "No worries. I'm not movin' an inch."

Turning on her heel, Miaka sped off to her bedroom, where she grabbed two towels from her clean laundry pile, then went to open the bathroom door and tossed them in at Taka.

"Thanks love!" He said cheerfully. "I'll be out in about five minutes."

"No hurry, take your time."

Miaka closed the door and hurried back to the entryway, heaving a sigh of relief when she saw that Dante was standing right where she'd left him, just outside the open doorway.

When their eyes met, her heart gave a lurch at the hurt and jealousy etched in his expression.

Her response came from the heart.

Without a word or a second thought or worry about being seen, she walked up to him and slipped her arms around his neck.

His went around her waist as he lowered his forehead to rest against hers.

"I was gonna ask if you wanted to gp grab a bite to eat with me," he said, "but it looks like you're busy."

She could tell he was trying very hard not to make too big a deal out of it, but his disappointment was tangible. That settled the matter. Though she wasn't keen on tackling a show down after a long day, she would do it for Dante.

"I'm going to be busy, but not with Taka." She corrected. "I had prior plans for the evening."

He brightened. "Plans...with me?"

She nodded with vigor. "After he gets dressed, I'm going to tell him he'll have to go. Would you please wait for me out in your car while I talk to him?"

Dante tipped his head back and gazed at the heavens. "Will I wait, she asks."

Miaka wasn't sure how to read his reaction. Was he upset?

"I don't like making you wait for so long." She offered meekly. "I'm really sorry."

He looked at her then, and his smile set her heart thundering.

"I'm not." He said. "For you, I'd wait forever."

**To be continued...**

**Reviewers of this chapter will receive a gilded canary cage from the private collection of Celestial Warrior Nakago! (Canary not included.) **


	10. Chapter Ten

**Leather and Lace**

**By: Maidens of Konan**

_(The most honorable Watase-san owns the characters and story of Fushigi Yûgi-no infringement is intended, and no profit is being reaped by its use. Any non-canon, original characterizations and plot lines in this work of fanfiction belong to the MOK (aka the author) . Disembarking to the chapter will begin in a moment. Thank you for flying with Konan Air, and have a nice day. _

_Chapter warnings: A sprinkling of profanity_

**Chapter Ten**

He would have waited forever...

There was nothing that she say in return that would adequately express her emotions, so she simply went to Dante and hugged him tight, her head resting directly over his heart. His arms tightened about her, and she listened as his heartbeats ticked off the few precious seconds she could spend in the shelter of his embrace, then with extreme reluctance, raised her head and slowly pulled her arms from around his neck. "I'll see you in a few minutes?"

He kept his hands clamped at the sides of her waist, but allowed her to take a step back. "I drive a midnight blue SUV- it's parked right next to your car. I'll be sittin' there if ya need some backup."

"That's good to know, but I'll be okay." She said.

"Stuff can happen that ya don't expect."

"It will be fine. He won't like it, but he'll go quietly once I explain."

"I'll be stormin' the place and carryin' ya off if he doesn't!"

"You wouldn't!"

"Try me."

The fierceness in his smile and eyes said that he was dead serious. The point was further underscored as he backed her up against the door frame, caging her between strong arms and a muscular torso, holding her gaze the entire time. His intent was clear, and she didn't resist when his head lowered to hers.

The kiss was hard, deep and honest in showing that it was all about claiming her rather than an expression of tenderness. She didn't hold back in her response, an equally passionate reassurance that his having to let her go at this moment didn't mean having to let go forever.

Almost as quickly as it had been taken prisoner, her mouth was freed.

"I'm goin' now, but remember what I said." Dante growled.

She was left leaning against the doorframe as he turned and strode away in a manner that suggested he needed to put a safe distance between them.

Gathering her scattered wits, she straightened and hurried after him, stopping at the top of the staircase to call out a farewell as he begin his descent of the steps.

He stopped at the first landing, and then turned to looked up at her with an expression that made her heart melt and her knees disappear.

She impulsively blew him a kiss, a gesture she'd never performed in her entire life, but which now seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do.

Dante was clearly surprised. He stared at her for a moment, then came a smile, one that suggested that he was considering making good on his threat to carry her away.

Her pulse began to pound in anticipation. If he decided to do it, she doubted that she could or would resist.

But raised voices and laughter coming from the apartment below them distracted and then appeared to dissuade him. He gave her a little salute, then turned and jogged down the rest of the stairs without a second look.

Miaka turned and scooted back into her apartment before she caved into the impulse to run after him. Once inside, she leaned her forehead against the coolness of the white steel door, pressing fingers to lips that still felt the impact of Dante's. She wished she had a mirror in the foyer. Did she look like she'd just had the living daylights kissed out of her? It certainly felt like she had...

_I can't believe I did that with Taka right here! I should be able to control myself better than that! _

"Oi, Miaka, was someone here?"

Dropping her arm to her side, she slowly turned towards the first man she had ever loved.

Taka was standing at the opposite end of the hallway, barefooted, damp haired, and clad only in his suit pants. She knew from past experience that his casual appearance was significant; no socks and no tie meant he expected to stay with her well into the evening, and no shirt meant until the morning. At one time this kind of signal would have sent her into raptures, but now it only brought on a sinking sensation in her tummy, and an apprehension that bordered on panic. _I have to tell him about Dante! I have to! Oh, he's going to be so hurt…_

"Honey?"

"Sorry!" She tried to make her smile look natural. "Yes, someone was here."

"So what were they selling?"

"Who?"

"The person at the door!"

Taka's voice held exasperation. No more stalling, he was losing his patience. A few plausible stories had crowded into her mind, but she discarded them, preferring to give at least a partially truthful answer. "It was the police officer who helped me out yesterday when I became ill. He stopped by on his way home to see how I was feeling."

"Oh really? Well why didn't you invite him in? I would have liked to have met and thanked him!"

"I didn't think it was a good time since you were in the shower." And_ not a good idea, period!_ _None of us are prepared for you two to cross paths just yet!_

"There aren't any laws against having a naked man in your apartment, you know." Taka said with a teasing smile. "I'm sure he wouldn't have thought twice about it."

"He heard you yell for towels, and he felt bad for interrupting." She pointed out stiffly. I'm not lying. It's_ all true. _

"I see." Taka's smile was gone. "So how old is he?"

"About your age."

"Did you happen to notice if he was wearing a wedding ring?"

_Here we go_, she thought. "No."

"No, as in you didn't notice, or no, he wasn't wearing one?"

"He wasn't wearing one."

Taka's eyes narrowed. "And he was off duty?"

"Yes." She shrugged. "He's based in the precinct station down the road. He was on his way home."

Taka frowned. "It's a good thing I was here then. Giving your living status to an unattached guy you don't know isn't a good idea, Miaka."

Though the argument was valid, and though the reason for Dante's visit was very personal, Miaka found she didn't like aspersions being cast on his conduct. What had happened between them wasn't his normal way of doing things, she was sure. And she had absolutely no doubt that he was the kind of cop who would go the extra mile and make a personal offer of help to anyone if he knew they had been having difficulties.

"It doesn't matter if he was off duty. He's a _police officer,_ honor bound to protect!" She defended. "His only concern was for me!"

"It seems so. But I'd be willing to lay odds that this follow up had a lot more to do with his libido rather than duty."

"So was I not supposed to thank him for his concern or his assistance when I got sick, then? I was supposed to shut the door in his face?"

"I'm not saying that! It's just...that you have this tendency to be unknowing of how men see you. And you're way too trusting of strangers-"

"And you have the tendency of being paranoid and cynical!" She shot back. "Officer Tager has acted honorably! _I'm_ the one who's at fault- for running late, getting caught for speeding and having an attack of altitude sickness right in front of him because I didn't drink my water-"

"Tager?" Taka's brows drew together. "That name is familiar."

Miaka was diverted from her tirade. Logic said that Taka couldn't know Dante...if he'd ever met up with someone like Tasuki, she would definitely have heard about it.

"I don't know why it would be," she said warily. "unless he's given you a ticket."

"No, I haven't gotten any tickets." He shrugged. "Which reminds me, how much was your fine?"

"It was my error. I'm taking care of it. " She lifted her chin, her gaze challenging him to argue the point.

He held his hands up in a disarming gesture. "All right, have it your way. But you could protest it, you know. The guy could have given you a warning, being it was your first offense."

"He offered to do that, but I said no."

Taka looked perplexed for a moment, then nodded. "That was the best thing to do. I'd rather you pay the full fine than to owe the guy."

He obviously thought she'd appreciate his approval, but she didn't. "Really Taka? Are you that willing to malign someone's character without even knowing them? Is that what you've learned since being here?" She asked, staring at him. "Just so you know, I've been the recipient of kind gestures from all kinds of people I've met since I've been living here. When I've offered to pay them back, they just tell me to do something nice for someone else when I get the chance." She paused. "Americans call it paying it forward. If you haven't heard of it, maybe you need to get away from your profit minded mindset and experience generosity for its own sake."

There was a long silence in which Taka took stock of her advice.

"You're right." He finally said. "I'm sorry, Mi-chan."

"Thank you. I'd like to think you'd have done the same for someone if you were a policeman." She said quietly. "You play the hard-nosed executive, but that's not who you are. You're a kind and compassionate person, even if you aren't allowed to show it at work."

Taka sighed and rubbed a hand over his neck.

"I have gotten cynical." He admitted. "I try to steer clear of the office politics, the alliances and the backstabbing that goes on, but seeing it day after day makes it hard to take other people's good intentions at face value." His eyes shimmered with remorse. "I'll try to do better- I _have _to do better! And I will, just as long as I have you to remind of what's really important!"

Miaka gazed at him, surprised and deeply touched at hearing echoes of the teenage boy that used to put her feelings first. That young man was still there under all that plate armor. All it would take was a single step and she could be back in his arms.

Not surprisingly, an image of Dante superimposed itself on that notion as soon as she thought of it. _There's no going back...only forward._

"Thank you, Taka." She murmured. "I know you will be a good person even without me being there to remind you."

He gave her a sharp look, but before he could reply, loud, plaintive meowing bundle of fur took center stage. Miaka crouched down to pick up her pet, and nestled Mizu comfortably into the cradle of her arms. As she began to stroke his silky soft back, Taka's gaze honed in on her bandaged forefinger.

"What happened there?" He asked, touching it gently.

She kept her gaze on the bandage. "I got a little distracted when I was slicing a tomato for a salad. It looks much worse than it is."

Taka was shaking his head. "You can't lose focus when you're prepping. Those knives are as sharp as scapels- one of these days you'll end up cutting off a finger!"

She simply nodded.

After another brief silence he added, "You shouldn't have to prepare your meals after cooking all day at work. If you want, I'd hire someone to do it for you."

He didn't even realize yesterday had been her day off. "Thank you, but it's not a chore for me. I really like cooking."

She set Mizu down as she replied. Once deposited on the carpet, the cat slunk straight over to his human nemesis. In a display of blatantly insincere friendliness, the Siamese rubbed back and forth against Taka's pant legs, depositing thick strands of hair upon the charcoal-colored fabric.

Muttering something unpleasant under his breath, Taka nudged the cat away with his foot. When that didn't work, the nudge became a shove. Mizu responded with a hiss and a swipe of his paw before stalking off, and Taka swore as he inspected the fresh scratch on his left foot. "When you move in with me, that menace is gonna be de-clawed!"

"No he's not." She corrected him firmly. _And I'm not moving in with you either_. "Declawing can be dangerous to a cat's physical and emotional health. I won't do it."

Taka opened and quickly shut his mouth at seeing the warning in her eyes. After a moment's hesitation, he spun on his heel and headed into the living room.

Miaka was grateful that he'd given in without a fight. She moved quickly past the living room to the kitchen to put away her groceries, conscious that thanks to her poor time management, the clock was ticking away minutes that she could have been enjoying with Dante.

Taka had picked up the remote and switched on the television. She couldn't help thinking that if Dante were with her he would have been in the kitchen, joking and chatting and helping her to put things away.

The thought renewed her resolve to broach the subject of her impending date.

As she rapidly cleared the counter of foodstuffs, Taka helped her out by providing an opening.

"Hey Mi-chan! Let's see a movie." He called out. "I've got the listings, it's your turn to pick, isn't it?"

_How can it be my turn to pick? He hasn't asked me to the movies since I got here!_ Irritation replaced guilt as Miaka tallied all the things they used to do in Tokyo that had fallen by the wayside. W_hat assurance is there that it won't stay this way with him after he gets his promotion? The higher he rises in the company, the more responsibility he has. _

"Oi, Mi-chan! Can you hear me out there?"

He turned the television off, evidently thinking it the source of her non response.

"Yes, I can hear you." _Now. __I have to tell him the truth now. Before this gets worse. It's not right for me to lie and pretend things are still the same between us._

"If we eat soon, we can still catch a matinee. There's a vampire flick playing at the Chateau, or maybe you'd prefer-"

It was now or never. "I'm sorry Taka, but I can't go to the movies."

He was clearly thrown by her refusal, but recovered quickly. "I know it's short notice. We could eat out, if you'd rather not cook, or go to a late show instead of the last matinee. Eleven bucks a head to get in and twelve bucks for a bucket of popcorn and drinks is outrageous, but it's not like I can't afford it."

Miaka smacked the loaf of bread she had just picked up back down on the counter and strode out into the living room.

"My cooking and and your money have absolutely nothing to do with it, Taka."

He threw up his hands and let them fall. "Jeez, Miaka, what is going on with you? You've done nothing but glare at me since I got here!I took the evening off to have fun with you! Don't you want to have fun?"

"Of course I want to have fun_. That's why I already had made plans." _

She folded her arms across her chest as he gave her a peeved look_. _

_"Ca_n't you reschedule?"

"No, I really can't."

"Why not?"

_ Because I care about Dante. Because my world no longer revolves around you finding time for me. Because I don't want the kind of life you do_. Miaka thought, ticking off the points in her head.

Aloud, she said, "I'm sorry that you're disappointed, but if you wanted to see a movie with me tonight that badly, you could have called and asked me ahead of time-"

She broke off as the shrill summons of an incoming text message filled the air.

With an apologetic grimace, Taka went over and picked up his cel phone from the table and glanced at the message, name and number showing on the view screen. "Damn, it's Thornton! He wants me to call him, and I can't blow this one off!"

"Of course not. He's your boss." She said, in a matter of fact tone. "Why don't you use the bedroom? It's more private."

He stared at her, his expression showing bewilderment at her calm acceptance and pique at her refusal to rearrange her plans for him.

Miaka stared back, unmoved and thinking that it was the best way to get him to leave without having to get into an all out fight. His deeply ingrained loyalty to Mr. Thornton would compel Taka to answer the summons and leave her. This kind of dedication was second nature to him. It had served him well as a seishi in his past life, and it had brought him sucess in his career. She truly couldn't fault him for having it.

"You sure you're all right?" He asked.

"You need to take this call, and I need to get ready to go out with my friend." Her smiled was unforced. "Honestly, I'm not angry about it."

It was true. She was no longer troubled. For once it worked to her advantage that his work duties had infringed on his free time... and the reason why was waiting for her out in the parking lot.

"I'll have to deal with him, " Taka said, still staring at her, "but I think it's important that we set aside some time very soon to discuss what's going on with us."

"I do too." She agreed. "Just tell me when."

He got up from the sofa and walked over to stand in front of her. She tilted her head back to look up at him, unconsciously admiring the strong line of his jaw and the solid breadth of his neck and shoulders.

His arm lifted, hesitated, and then moved so that his hand could cup her check. The phone messenger went off again, but this time he ignored it.

"Miaka…whatever the hell it is that's going wrong between you and me, I'm going to fix it. I know I haven't shown it much lately, but you are the most important thing in my life."

For one moment she allowed herself the hope that she had won out over Thornton Investments, until his phone killed it by going off a third time.

His apology was in his eyes as his hand fell away.

"I have to go."

Without another word, he turned and stode down the hall to her bedroom, dialing the cel phone as he went. She could hear him cheerfully greeting his boss as he shut the door.

While she waited for the phone call to end, Miaka finished tidying her kitchen. As excited as she was about going out with Dante, it was impossible not to feel sadness that her first romance was crumbling into a ruin of memory. She'd never, ever stop loving Taka but it was time to face facts- she wasn't making him any happier than he was making her. They'd grown apart, he just couldn't see it yet.

She wasn't so starry eyed that she couldn't see that a relationship with Dante presented potentially significant problems; cultural differences, his blocked memories, and her feelings about Tasuki were all serious hurdles to overcome. The past might very well haunt them, yet she felt no apprehension in being with Dante in the present. What they shared was about more than attraction and chemistry and history. It was about understanding what was important in life.

Less than five minutes had elapsed when she heard Taka emerge from her bedroom and go right into the bathroom. Since the door didn't click shut behind him, she knew he had gone to retrieve his tie and his suit jacket. She had judged it correctly- apparently, whatever his call had entailed was going to take him away for the rest of the night.

* * *

When Taka finally walked into the kitchen, he was buttoning the collar of his shirt.

As he finished straightening the knot of his tie, Miaka faced him.

"I have no choice. I have to leave." He finally said, while shrugging into his jacket. "Thornton wants to see me right away."

Miaka eyed his stony expression and frowned. This wasn't an ordinary meeting, she thought with sudden apprehension. Something had to have gone wrong. "What's happened, Taka?" She asked.

To her amazement, he gave her an answer. "If what I suspect turns out to be true, it's something that poses a cyberthreat and security breach for the company." He said. "You can't tell this to anyone. It's top secret."

She looked him straight in the eye. "I won't tell a soul unless you're in some kind of danger."

"Fair enough." He agreed. "I'll give you the condensed version. Someone's recently gained access to my client database and deposited unmarked files there. I don't know where they came from, what they contain, and I can't open them to find out. It's possible that they're security backups or an accidental duplication of previous files... but it could also very well be a hackers attempt to gain access to accounts for information. My files contain records of all of my clients' stocks, bonds, credit accounts, financial transactions and their personal assets, so they'd be a gold mine for some criminal who's in the identity theft business."

While she digested this information, he added, "Many of my clients are close to retirement age, and a lot of them aren't very trusting of computer transactions and electronic record keeping in the first place. If a criminal has broken into with their accounts, not only will it be incredibly traumatic, it'll totally shatter the trust they placed in me. I wanted to talk with Thornton before that has a chance to happen." Taka gave a short laugh. "Somehow my assistant managed to put the fear of god into Thornton's assistant and she was able to get me an appointment. He wants to meet with me as soon as I can get to his offices. But it messes things up for us. I can't tell you how sorry I am."

Miaka shook her head. She no longer wanted Taka to leave for her sake. She wanted him to leave to keep his people safe. "Go and don't worry. They're counting on you. You need to take care of them!"

He put a hand to his neck, rubbing it in a distracted way. "Dammit, things have been going so smoothly, I got complacent. I should have prevented it! Or at least caught it sooner! My clients trust me, and now because of me, they're in danger of losing their retirement funds or even having their identities stolen!"

He looked devastated, and Miaka was astounded. It was rare for Taka to show such emotion- these days, he was the epitome of the phrases 'self-confident' and 'cool headed'. To have him let her into his world, to hear him finally confide something of importance, to see him looking vulnerable and uncertain for the right reasons, brought out an answering tenderness within her.

She was certain that his peers, the ones that she had been introduced to at various company functions, would have only cared about saving their own skin, or what the reward would be for making such a crucial discovery, or how they could use it to further their own prospects with the company. Taka's only concern had been preserving his integrity, the reputation of the company he worked for, and most of all, saving his clients from harm. Given that, maybe it was a good thing that this crisis had happened to him and not one of the others. At least this way, elderly customers had someone fighting for them that cared about them as people more than he cared about their financial assets.

And she cared too.

"It's not your fault this happened, but it _is_ important that you get it straightened out." She stated. "Everyone knows you're as honest and loyal a person as it's possible to be. You're doing the right thing in reporting this, and even if it turns out to be nothing, I'm positive that you won't lose face with Thornton-san!"

"I hope you're right." Taka replied heavily. "I can't shake this really bad feeling that everything I've worked for is about to be yanked away..."

He reached out to her, and Miaka went into his hug, trying to provide the solace he obviously needed. Further discussion of their deteriorating relationship could wait. She just couldn't bring herself to dump that on him at a time when he truly needed her support.

A moment later, as he pulled her closer and began softly kissing her ear and the curve of her neck, she managed not to stiffen, not wanting to upset him with such an obvious withdrawal of affection. The strong, timeless bond they had shared as miko and seishi still existed, just as it did with Tasuki and the rest of the Suzaku Seven. Nothing could ever dissuade her from trying to help any of them, no matter the time, the place, or what their problems might be.

Dante had said he accepted her not completely severing her contact with Taka. He said it, but thinking realistically, he would have second thoughts at some point. The only hope of Dante fully understanding her point of view would be if he would regain some memory of his prior relationship to her and Tamahome.

A meeting with Taka and Dante might be the trigger those memories. But a meeting like that could prove more traumatic than helpful to both men, especially once she'd laid everything out so that Taka understood her feelings.

There was also the question of Craig...Kouji...and why both he and Tasuki had been reincarnated into this world. Was Konan in danger? Was something bad about to happen in this world? Would her other seishi appear in due time? Would Taka want any part of it once their relationship had changed? Would Dante be open to the knowledge that he'd once lived a life that flouted all conventional laws of science?

So many questions begging to be answered, but for now she had to keep them bottled up. In the short term she could handle it. But considering how awful she felt about hiding the whole truth from Taka, and given how fast things were progressing between her and Dante, it couldn't be long before she confessed everything.

* * *

It was a good thing, Dante thought ruefully, that he had experienced many indeterminable waits on stake outs, or he'd have gone stir crazy.

As it was, his radio was on at a low volume, and he held a paperback copy of the best selling mystery he had bought a week ago with the intention of keeping it in the vehicle for surveillance ops. Since he had been reassigned to patrol duty, he hadn't gotten the chance to start on it.

He hummed along to the strains of the power ballad drifting from the speakers as he opened to the first chapter. At times like this, there was nothing better than reading a good book. Time always seemed to pass more quickly when he was reading, and hopefully it woulddistract him from speculating on what was happening up in Miaka's apartment.

_She said she was gonna take care of it. I gotta let her do it t' show her that I trust her._ Nothin' to worry about. That kiss said everything I need to know.

Yeah, it had been obvious that Miaka had been extremely happy to see him and equally clear that Sukinami's visit had been an unwelcome one. As pleasing as knowing that was, he wished to hell that he'd taken the time to call and tell her he was coming over before leaving the station. If he'd shown a little more consideration, Miaka wouldn't have ended up crying in his arms like she had. The sight of and feel of her tears had been like a knife to the gut.

He wanted to make her laugh. He hated being the cause of her distress. If he was going to show her a good time, he needed to mellow out.

Making a conscious effort to relax, he hunkered deeply into his seat and turned to the first page of the novel, prepared to lose himself in the world of mystery and suspense.

Three songs and two chapters later, he heaved an impatient sigh.

_Okay, this ain't working. Got no idea what I just read!_

He snapped the book shut, carelessly tossed it into the back seat and then began to cast about for another distraction. None was forthcoming, until he spied the small sketch pad and pencil tucked into the pocket his sun visor. He grabbed the items, then settled back in his seat, preparing to write down anything that sounded appetizing for a week of bachelor meals.

Five minutes later, his grocery list was finished, and in desperation, he began to doodle in the margin of the tablet. After a minute or two, inspiration hit, and he ripped out the list to start a fresh drawing. Although he hadn't done any serious sketches since his police academy days, he could still feel that indefinable something inside him, helping to guide his hand.

Several minutes later he stopped sketching and critically surveyed the rough but detailed head and shoulders portrait he had created. A pleasant feeling of accomplishment filled him as he looked at it; despite his long hiatus from artistic pursuits, he had managed to render an excellent likeness of Miaka.

Except for one small difference.

Instead of leaving her hair loose and flowing, for some reason he had drawn itr caught up in two buns, one on each side of her head.

_Weird. Why did I draw her like that?_ He frowned for a moment, and then grinned as a plausible explanation popped into his mind. _Oh I see! Damn if I didn't give her Princess Leia's hair! Guess that's what I get for watchin' that Star Wars marathon last night._ He scrutinized the picture_. Somethin' is still missin' …_

After short but thoughtful consideration, he quickly drew thick tendrils of hair that hung in front of her delicate ears and extended them beyond her jaw line, providing a soft frame for her lovely, heart-shaped face. As a finishing touch to the innocent look he'd given her, he added wide ribbons tied in a bow around the buns, drawing them in such a way that the bows hung beneath the rounded knobs of hair.

_There. _Dante thought, eyeing the picture in amused satisfaction. _Holy shit, I'm glad she doesn't look that young in real life! I'd feel like I was robbin' the cradle!_

He flipped the page over to begin a new drawing. Again, his hand flew over the paper, seemingly guided by some unseen force. In a matter of minutes he had completed a full length drawing of Miaka. Inexplicably, he had drawn her in a two piece harem ensemble straight out of Arabian Nights. Her feet were bare, and one arm was raised to the sky, as if summoning some great power to do her bidding. Dante shook his head, smiling at his whimsy.

_Kinda melodramatic, but I wouldn't mind seein' her in a get up like that one._

Scanning the blank space behind his subject, his gaze fell on his tattoo and an idea formed in his mind. He set about sketching, and it wasn't long before a phoenix emerged, rising high enough behind Miaka so that its head hovered above hers, and its wings stretched protectively above and beyond her shoulders. _Hey, that looks pretty cool! _

So how long had it been now?

He glanced at his watch, and was immediately annoyed to see that a good forty-five minutes had passed since he had left Miaka's front door. Just how long did it take to tell someone to take a hike, anyway?

All right, that wasn't fair. Of course, he understood that it would be awfully difficult for her, and of course he was more than willing to wait for however long it took for her to come to him. Unfortunately, that willingness and understanding didn't keep his nerves from fraying, or prevent him from feeling insanely jealous of every extra moment she was spending with his rival.

No matter how good his intentions were, t didn't change the fact that he was the interloper in a long term relationship. If Sukinami tried to make love to Miaka, he, Dante, had no real right to protest. Taka was her first love, and they had a history that went back to their teenage years. That she could find the strength to start saying no to his advances after all that time was something that he hoped for, but couldn't fathom how she'd do it.

If she could do it. The guy had saved her life...

A loud snap reverberated into the silence.

Dante looked down, saw that the pencil he held had broken in half, and tossed the pieces into the back seat with a snort of self-disgust. At the same time, a flash of movement caught the corner of his eye. Slowly straightening out of his hunkered down posture, he cautiously peered out his front window just in time to see a dark-haired, well-dressed man rapidly descending the stairs from the third floor.

There was something awfully familiar about the erect posture and loose, confident stride, Dante thought, turning his head for a better view. When the pedestrian drew nearer to his position, he realized why. Although he had been stymied in his attempts to arrange a face- to- face meeting, he'd seen that lean, athletic build and the pretty boy face enough in the photos that he had gone through in his investigation of Thornton Investments to recognize who it was.

Taka Sukinami, in the flesh.

He continued to watch intently as the Japanese man passed by just a few feet from the hood of the Jeep, and then craned his neck to see what car Sukinami would approach. A derisive smirk curled his lip upon spotting the distinctive make of the vehicle.

_Must be nice to own a brand new Jag. __Guess money ain't everything though, he looks upset. Maybe Miaka decided to break it off with him now?_

At the thought. Dante couldn't help feeling an instinctive, masculine sympathy for his rival. Getting dumped by a woman was the great equalizer among men. No matter how rich a guy was or how high a status he had attained in life, losing out at love was always a bitch.

_He's gotta be a smart guy to do what he does, but that doesn't mean he understands women any better than the rest of us. __But I'm not gonna start feeling sorry for him now! It's his own damn fault that she's not happy. I ain't gonna stand by and watch him jerk her around any more!_

Thinking of Miaka and the fact that she was all by herself propelled him into action. After carefully closing and puttting the notebook away under the arm of his seat, he switched off his radio and yanked the keys from the ignition.

He waited, humming and legs jiggling with impatience, for the gunmetal gray Jaguar to turn out of the parking lot onto the busy street in front of the complex.

As the car faded into the distance, Dante bolted from his own vehicle and made a swift dash for Miaka's apartment.

* * *

When the door buzzer sounded, Miaka had just finished combing her hair and was scurrying around her bedroom trying to figure out what to wear. She stopped for a moment to smile at her pet, who was lying out in the hall, presumably so he could watch her and the front door at the same time.

"I think Dante must have seen Taka leaving, kitty." She said conversationally.

Mizu's whiskers twitched as he stared at his mistress.

"He's going to have to wait a bit longer, because there's no way I'm going out in this outfit!" She declared, with a disparaging glance down at her faded t-shirt and wrinkled shorts.

Running to the dresser, she yanked out a dark blue, midriff-baring halter top and denim shorts from a drawer and then hastily pulled them on. A full application of makeup was discarded in the interest of time, except for a light coat of mascara, and a dusting of powder to reduce shine. She quickly finger combed her bangs, hooked a pair of silver Kokapelli dangles into pierced ears, and dabbed perfume on the inner bend of her elbows and behind her knees.

She was ready. Ready for her first date with someone other than Taka. Though she felt pangs of guilt, she also couldn't help feeling excited about going out with Dante. Just the thought of being with him made her life seem so much brighter. The reflection in her dresser mirror confirmed that observation, showing an image of a rosy cheeked, bright- eyed young woman looking as if she'd just received the best present of her life.

The buzzer sounded again as she ran from the room. When she reached the door, Miaka checked the peephole out of habit, and smiled happily at what she saw in the tiny circle. "I'm here! Just a second!" She fumbled to unlock and open the door. "Sorry to be keep you waiting, but I wanted to change clothes." She added, somewhat breathlessly.

Dante grinned. "Don't go fussin' on my account! What you had on before was-" What he had been intending to say died on his lips as the door swung wide and he took in her full appearance. His cheeks darkened.

"Uh, check that. " He murmured. "Ya look...really great."

She smiled demurely. "Arigatou. I mean, thank you, Dante-kun. Would you like to come in now?"

"Thanks." As Dante walked past her into the apartment, he surreptitiously glanced down to check out her pert backside, which was nicely showcased by the short shorts she now wore. Yep, just as cute and sexy as he had remembered. Maybe more so.

Miaka closed the door, then turned to face him, and his gaze jerked upwards to her face. Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice his delayed reaction."So... is everythin' all right?" He asked, trying to make the inquiry sound casual and not as if his future happiness depended on her answer.

"More or less." She said, after heaving a sigh. "I told him I had plans, but then his boss called and he ended up having to go into work anyway, so..." she shrugged, "...that's the way it stands."

Disappointment kept Dante silent. So they hadn't called it quits, but at least she'd turned down sex with the guy. _She wanted to be with me tonight, not him. That's consolation enough to be goin' on with right now._ _"_Well then, are ya ready to get outta here?" He asked, forcing a cheerful tone.

Miaka smiled. "Definitely! May I ask where we're going?"

He brightened. "Ever eaten at The Sonic?"

"Is that the drive in restaurant with all the flags on the roof?" She asked, and he nodded. "No, not yet. What kind of food do they serve?"

"All-American food at its finest!" Dante boasted. "Things like double cheeseburgers, chili dogs, root beer, fries, shakes, onion rings…an' it's served by carhops on roller skates like in the good ole days. It's a real fun place, I can't believe ya haven't been there yet!" As a sudden thought occurred to him, his voice wavered with uncertainty. "Unless you'd want someplace nicer. It's not exactly gourmet cusine."

She shook her head and laughed. "I might cook fancy things for a living, but a good burger is a classic that has no competiton!"

His smile returned in force. "All right, The Sonic it is!"

"Just let me grab my shoes and my purse." She said, smiling back at him as she disappeared around the corner.

Dante wandered to the living room and then back onto the entryway, trying not to think what they could do now that he finally had Miaka alone. Well, not totally alone, there was the cat. But he had the feeling Mizu was a discreet kind of kitty. Right now, he was nowhere in sight.

His date reappeared, purse and keys in hand. He silently admired her dainty feet, now shown to advantage in navy blue sandals, and then asked, "So where did your kitty get himself off to?"

She smiled. "Mizu's asleep on my bed."

Dante grinned. "What a lucky little fuzz ball! I bet he's purrin', too."

Her blush and laugh came easily. "Mou! Dante-kun is a pervert!"

"Another service I offer!" He joked. "I call it part of my charm."

"It is, actually."

Her smile was guileless, but her eyes betrayed her desire for his touch.

As his own sexual response surged through him, Dante hastily averted his eyes to his watch. "Wow, look at the time! I bet you're hungry."

"I am," she murmured. "Extremely hungry."

The catch in her voice grabbed his attention, and he looked up just in time to see her gaze straying to his groin. He felt himself harden under her perusal, but this time made no effort to hide what was happening. He simply hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans and let her check him out.

When their eyes met, she looked adorably flustered.

He smiled and stepped back, holding the door for her.

"Ladies first."

As Miaka walked past him, her perfume teased his nostrils.

It took every bit of his willpower not to grab her against him and bury himself in that scent.

* * *

They exited the apartment, which Miaka locked up, and then made inconsequential small talk as they descended the stairs and walked to Dante's vehicle.

As he opened the door and she got into the SUV , Miaka was acutely conscious of the tension between them. A highly pleasant kind of tension, the kind that came from being locked into an ancient and ritualistic mating dance replete with circling and feinting moves that promised but never quite involved contact.

Eventually the dance would come to its conclusion. But who would make the move that would finish it?

As she buckled her seat belt, an image of herself as a cavewoman popped into her mind. Going with her muse, she pictured her primitive self hitting an equally Neolithic-looking Dante over the head with a club and dragging him off by his flaming red top knot... and almost choked on a laugh.

"Everything all right?" Dante asked, as he settled in beside her.

"Couldn't be better." She assured him, now imagining what they'd be doing once she got him back to her cave.

He eyed her with suspicion. "You daydreamin'?"

Her smile widened. "Mm-hmmm..."

"We're headin' for trouble! I'll have to deploy a distraction before we have melt down!" Suiting his actions to his words, Dante quickly reached under his seat arm and brought out a notepad, which he tossed into her lap. "Here ya go!"

She cast him an inquisitive look as he buckled his seat belt and started the engine. "What's this?"

"Just a couple drawings I did while I was waitin' for ya. I'd like to know what ya think of them, an' please be honest, okay? I'm very good at takin' criticism."

His face was tinged with red, and he wouldn't meet her eyes. giving her the distinct impression that despite his brash words, he was nervous about her looking at his sketches.

"If you're the artist I'll love them...even if they suck!" She teased. "How's that for being honest?"

Dante's blush deepened. "Pretty damn good."

She grinned at his profile before picking up the notebook on her lap and opening its cover with a flourish.

As the top page came into view, Dante folded his arms and stared down at the steering wheel. From his reaction, Miaka suspected the drawings might be of her.

But whatever she might have expected from a portrait did not prepare her for what met her eyes.

She stared down at the innocently rendered drawing of herself as a fifteen year old schoolgirl with ribbon-tied odangos, shocked to the core.

Then, without warning, the tears started to flow.

**To be continued…**

**Reviewers will receive two scarlet hair ribbons and a package of marshmallow kitties (compliments of Mizu!)**


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Leather and Lace **

**By Maidens of Konan **

_We don't own Fushigi Yûgi, the Sonic Drive-In, or the city of Colorado Springs. Dante, the plot, and any other original characterizations and concepts not in the original series are the intellectual property of the author. Please do not use these ideas or characters without written permission, or the nefarious 'Shin' will be clamming up your sorry person._

_Chapter warnings: cuss words and adult topics of conversation. _

**Chapter Eleven**

Miaka buried her face in her hands, humiliated by her inability to control her emotions. Dante's drawing of her had been beautifully rendered, and his unexpected talent had amazed her. But the _way_ he'd drawn her triggered strong feelings long buried, feelings about their joint past in the book. Coupled with the stress of being in a disintegrating romance and the emotional roller coaster ride she'd been on for the last twenty four hours, it was just too much.

She was far away from the only people she could talk to about this. At this point, there was no way she could introduce Taka and Dante, or tell Dante about that fantastic, heartbreaking voyage they had once taken together. Her instincts and past experience indicated that he wasn't ready to hear that story, and that any attempt she might make at telling it would meet with outright rejection. Even if he _was_ open minded to the possibilities, there was a better than good chance that forcing any dormant memories to emerge could prove to be traumatic.

There were no memory stones this time, no easy solutions. She had no way of knowing what happened to Tasuki that had allowed him to appear in her world. Dante's recollections of his other life would have to surface on their own... providing they'd come back to him at all. If that were the case, it was pretty hard to conceive of building a relationship based on trust and honesty while knowing that she had to either hide or lie to him about a huge chunk of her past- of _their_ past- not to mention making sure that Taka kept quiet about it as well.

Just the thought of it increased her frustration and the flow of her tears.

* * *

As a muffled sob reached his ears, Dante's head turned with a snap.

Miaka was crying.

He had made her cry.

For what could have been seconds or minutes, he could only stare at his weeping companion, frozen in place by shock and dismay while thoughts spun in his mind like a smoothie in a blender.

Was she sick? Having second thoughts about their date? Had his drawing been insulting to her in some way?

The sight of her shaking shoulders finally galvanized him into action. He unfastened her seat belt and gathered her within the circle of his arms, feeling a wave of protectiveness crash down and engulf him as the storm of her weeping increased in intensity.

It hurt to see _her_ hurting. He had to think of something, anything, that would ease her sorrow.

The solution that instantly cropped up in his mind was quickly discarded; using sexual means to comfort her might work, but in the end would be only a temporary fix. He had to get her to talk, he had to understand what was going on in her head before he could work on solving the problem.

The best way to begin to find that out, he decided, was with an apology.

"Miaka, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"N-no! It's...it's n-not..."

His heart sank as he felt her struggling to subdue her sobs; in desperation, he decided to go with a straightforward plea. "Just tell me where I went wrong! I'll make it up to you, I swear!"

"You h-haven't d-done anything wrong! I- I'm just …b-being stupid…"

Dante gathered her even more tightly against him as her body shook with a fresh wave of emotion. His gut was being twisted into knots, and he silently cursed his lack of experience with situations like this one. His mother had been the one to dry _his_ tears, not the other way around. Of his five sisters, all of them had been more likely to yell and chuck things at him when they were upset than to cry. A few girlfriends had used crying as a means of manipulation, and the rest were too tough to cry. The lone exception to that had only cried in front of him when she had dumped him for her ex-husband.

He had comforted strangers, victims of crime, those who were physically hurt. But when it came to his personal life and women, he was pretty much clueless.

"Miaka, sweetheart..." His eyes were stinging with empathy. "Dammit! Tell me how to help!"

"You are." She whispered, between catches of breath, "I j-just...need you…to h-hold me."

He did as she asked, repeatedly stroking a hand down the curve of her spine, never ceasing the motion as she gradually calmed. When she had become silent and still, he took her face in his hands, tilting it upwards until she was peering back at him from between her tear-spiked lashes. "Feel better?"

"Yes." She sniffled, and rubbed a finger under her nose, which had started to drip. "I bet I look awful."

"Ya look fine!" He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "'Fraid I don't have a hanky though-how about a couple of tissues?"

At her forlorn nod, he briefly leaned over her to open the glove box and grab a bunch of folded Kleenex. She accepted them gratefully, and set about drying her eyes and nose under his compassionate gaze.

He tucked a swatch of hair behind her ear, his mouth tightening a fraction as he felt her tremble beneath his touch. "You ready to tell me about it now?"

She stared down at the used tissues she'd crumpled between her hands. "I'm so sorry. You deserve better company than a total crybaby."

"Hey now." He cupped her chin and lifted it until she was looking straight at him while his other hand fell to cover both of hers, still clutching the sodden Kleenex. "I think I'm pretty damn lucky to be in your company. And just 'cause I hate like hell t'see ya cry, doesn't mean you're a crybaby! To be honest, I wouldn't be interested in a woman who didn't cry. Know what I mean?"

Miaka nodded slowly. "Yes, I do. I know _exactly _what you mean."

Though it bore traces of tears, her face was suddenly aglow with happiness.

Gazing at her, Dante wondered how he'd managed to say exactly the right thing and why it had such impact when he'd simply told her the bare truth. He'd clearly hit a home run. Her expression was...incredible. Whatever she was thinking at that moment , he hoped it had everything to do with him. "Well, gee, uh, I suppose it'd be stupid to ask how ya liked my drawing of you now, huh?"

"No, it isn't! I absolutely love it!" The enthusiasm in her voice deepened his blush. "You're so talented, it's an amazing likeness! Far better than you even realize..." She hestitated, her voice trailing off, and then added, "If you like, I can show you something that might help you understand why I reacted like that."

He was intensely curious. "Yeah. I'd like to know."

He released her hands so she could pick up her handbag. She flipped it open, and after a few seconds of rifling through its contents, withdrew two laminated photos. She gazed at them for a moment, indecision warring with determination in her expression before quickly holding them out to him.

"Take a look at these and tell me what you think."

Dante took the pictures from her, taking care to hold them by the edges. As soon as he looked down at them, his mouth fell open.

_Holy shit! This is way beyond weird!_

"I was fifteen when that was taken. It's a school photo." She picked up his sketch and held it alongside. "Do you see what an astounding likeness this is? If I didn't know better, I'd say you were using this picture for reference!"

"Yeah..." He glanced back and forth between the twin likenesses. "Yeah, it's hard to believe..." _How the hell did I get so close? Why did I even see her that way in my mind?_

"That photograph was taken after my final trip to China," Miaka went on. "A very special time in my life...a time when I believed that I could change the world, and all my dreams would finally become a reality." She wearily rubbed the back of a hand across her eyes. "I miss all of my dear friends there. I wish I could find out what became of them."

The profound longing in her expression and voice made Dante's heart sink. _S__he's thinkin' about my twin again. _He pondered morosely. _W__hy'd I have to go and remind her of how much she misses him? I swear, this Tasuki guy is gonna be a bigger pain in th' ass to me than Sukinami! _

Not wanting his passenger to get any hints of the jealousy he was feeling, he averted his gaze and quickly flipped the second picture over the first. "Nice pic! Is this gal a good friend of yours?"

Miaka smiled at the image of two laughing young women standing arm in arm. "Yes, that's Yui. She's been my best friend since we were four years old."

Dante studied the blonde's face closely, wondering at the quick stab of animosity it had provoked in him upon first viewing it. "Does she live in Tokyo?"

"Yes. We text and write, and try to call each other twice a month." Miaka replied. "I really wish I had a way to send email other than going to the library. Texts are so limited, and international calls are shockingly expensive. I've been saving for a laptop and internet service, because I don't want to-" She stopped there, thinking that their evening was starting badly enough without raising _that_ particular subject. She would have to bring about a resolution to her situation with Taka, but until that time came, she preferred to enjoy Dante's company and to let tomorrow take care of itself.

"No need t' get service just for email when you can use mine!" He stated cheerfully. "I have WiFi and unlimited hours on the 'net. It'd be no problem to find ya a free email provider."

"Really?" She squeaked. "Oh, that would be fantastic! But you'd have to let me pay something. And I don't want it to become a bother-"

"I wouldn't offer if I thought it would!" He assured her. "And forget about the money. If you feel you have to do something, you can cook for-"

He broke off on a surprised grunt as Miaka launched herself into his arms.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can't wait to tell Yui!"

Dante laughed and returned her hug. _"_You're welcome_. _But don't forget I'm expectin' a few home cooked meals in exchange!"

She beamed at him as she returned to her side of the seat. "I was planning to do that for you anyway!"

He reached out to finger a strand of her hair that had escaped from her pony tail. "Were you now? Maybe I should be askin' ya for somethin' else then."

"All right. What else would you want?"

She was trying hard to make the question sound nonchalant, but the blush and breathy catch in her voice gave her away.

Dante bared his fangs in a distinctly un-gentlemanly grin, unable to resist the chance to tease her a little more. "Lots of things, actually. But there _is _this one _particular_ thing…" He paused, his laughing eyes taking note of her startled expression. "Nah, never mind. It's better if I don't go there."

* * *

Miaka took a deep breath before responding. If Dante thought her completely unadventurous, he was in for a surprise!

"If it's something that pleases you, I'll be most happy to do it!" She asserted. "What did you have in mind?"

She had the satisfaction of seeing his jaw drop before he recovered his poise.

"I do appreciate that." He said, his expression turning serious. "But it's dangerous to agree to somethin' when you don't know what's involved. Y'all haven't known me long enough to know for sure what I'm gonna do or say."

She found herself stifling a nervous giggle, thinking that just a few minutes ago. Taka had expressed the same concerns as Dante. Both of them wanted to protect her, but there was a difference. Taka's words carried impatience and criticism. Dante's words were spoken with concern wrapped in warmth.

"It's true that I have the habit of going with what my heart says about someone." She admitted. "I'm impulsive, and I know I've been very lucky that most of those impulses have worked out." She smiled. " I _do_ trust you, Dante. I'm completely certain that you wouldn't ask me for something I wasn't willing or able to give you. Am I wrong to think that?"

* * *

Dante sighed. Never had he felt more like a wolf in sheep's clothing. He'd like nothing better than to follow up on her implicit suggestion, but he wouldn't. Whether or not she was a virgin, there was a very pure and innocent quality to her that he didn't want to see diminished by a thoughtless whim on his part.

"No, you're not wrong." He said, almost grudgingly. "I want ya to be happy. I wouldn't hurt ya for the world."

She brought out his noble side, no question about it. But he_ was_ only human. The smile she was giving him, when coupled with her sweet tear-stained face and the alluring scent of her body, made it impossible for him to resist kissing her.

Her smile slipped away and her eyes grew heavy lidded as his head began to lower. His mouth was now hovering just above hers. He moved the hand toying with her hair to her face, gently tipping it to a more accommodating angle. Her lips parted invitingly under a single brush of his thumb, her eyelids closed, and then…

...a loud, gurgling rumble ripped into the silence.

The mood was broken.

Miaka was blushing to the roots of her hair.

His quiet chuckle wafted across her lips before he backed away to grin down at her.

"Okay, let's take a rain check. We need to get you somethin' to eat!"

"Stupid, _stupid _stomach!" She muttered in disgust, as it gave another noisy, embarrassing growl. "I'm sorry, I hate it when it does this!"

She was so cute and looked so mortified, he couldn't give her a bad time."No need to be sorry! I'm hungry too!"

It wasn't a fib- he really was hungry. Hungry for her, that is. Which meant it was a fortuitous interruption. This was supposed to be a low stress date to counter last evening's disastrous ending, not a seduction.

Why he persisted in making things difficult for himself wasn't a mystery- he wanted Miaka like he'd never wanted anyone else. But he could handle that, being hot and bothered, as long as he knew there was a time coming where he wouldn't have to stop. He'd think of it like being on a diet- no need to give up everything, just had to exercise moderation. If the urge to go all the way was getting more intense with every kiss, then he'd just have to suppress until he knew exactly how and where things stood between Miaka and Sukinami.

But now wasn't the time for bringing up that subject. The fact that he was here with her and she had been willing to send Sukinami packing to make it so would suffice for now. There was no way he was going to ask Miaka any loaded questions after the ups and downs she'd already been through this day.

It was time for him to show her some old fashioned, just-for-the-hell-of-it fun.

Suiting thought to action, Dante plucked the notepad out of her hand, tucked the photos into it, and then put it under his seat, all the while turning a deaf ear to her protests.

"I need to work on the second one a little more before I let ya see it." He told her firmly. "A couple of bacon cheeseburgers are callin' our names! It wouldn't be polite to keep them waitin' on us, now, would it?"

* * *

She had to admit he had a point. She _was _famished. Emotional stress had always made her extra hungry, and she was certain that 'The Sonic' would fulfill her needs in that particular regard.

"No, it wouldn't." She agreed, returning his smile. "Let's go."

She slid back into place and fastened her seat belt. Dante followed suit, then started up the SUV. As he expertly maneuvered it out of the parking space, Miaka allowed her gaze to wander over his face and body. She was a bit confounded by his not wanting to show her the other drawing he'd done, but then again, she couldn't blame him after she had blubbered all over the first one.

_That sketch proves he has memories of me buried in his subconscious. It's going to happen- he's going to remember someday. If he senses our bond as warrior and priestess, that's the first step._

A sigh escaped her as she thought of what it might be like to deepen that bond beyond the purely spiritual. Everything in her was telling her that it would be wonderful_. _

_He's going to tease me and be wicked. He'll be funny, loving and considerate of my feelings. And very honest-I will always know exactly where I stand with him. And as a lover, he'll be...oh Suzaku, I can't imagine anyone being better. __ I don't understand why Sandra would have wanted to break up with him, but I'm so awfully glad that she did! _

She made a happy sound, and Dante sent an inquiring glance her way.

"Uh-oh." He said, after doing a double take. "I know that look. It means trouble for my peace of mind!"

"Not in the least." She replied demurely. "I was only admiring the scenery."

"No you weren't! You were looking at..." He paused. "Ah."

Her smile widened to a grin. He wasn't looking at her now, but she could tell he was blushing.

Reaching out, she lightly stroked the curve of his bicep with one fingertip, and was pleased to see goose bumps appear. She felt bold, daring, and deliciously feminine all at once; something that hadn't occurred anywhere but in the company of this man.

"You're a lot like those mountains out there, you know." She said softly. "Beautiful and steadfast and strong."

They had come to a red light. Dante wasted no time in taking the opportunity to grab hold of her hand, entwining their fingers as he had the previous day. She watched with a thrill of anticipation as he lifted her knuckles to his mouth, and inhaled sharply as he brushed a kiss across them; the lightest touch of his lips was enough to ignite a conflagration of feelings.

"Give me any more of that sweetness and I guarantee we'll never make it to the drive-in." He said, with a meaningful look.

She blinked, pretending innocence. "Are you saying you don't like compliments?"

"No, what I'm sayin' is that your tummy is still rumbling, so it's best if you behave yourself so it gets somethin' to eat!"

She wanted to, but something about his smile told her she didn't dare push him any further.

"Oh all right." She pouted. "May I have my hand back?"

He laughed at her. "Not a chance! It's mine now, possession is nine tenths of the law!" He kissed her knuckles once more, then dropped their joined hands to the seat space between them. "So let that be a lesson to ya."

"Yes, Officer." She heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Whatever you say, Officer."

He laughed again at her long-suffering tone. "Now _that's_ what I like to hear!"

* * *

Even though it was past the suppertime rush, the Sonic's parking lot was three quarters full. As Dante parked and switched off the engine, Miaka watched in amazement as a car hop on roller skates blithely sailed by the front of their vehicle while holding up a tray that was literally heaped with food.

"How can they keep their balance with so much to carry?" She wondered aloud.

"Lots and lots of practice." Dante answered, already engrossed in looking at the menu board posted next to the parking space. "I know I said bacon cheeseburgers, but if you'd rather have something else, go ahead."

"I want to order what you're having," She said promptly.

This pleased Dante, and he favored her with a smile that made her go warm with happiness. "Great! How do you like your cheeseburger done?"

"Medium well, please."

Dante rolled down his window and punched a button on the speaker attached to the menu. After a moment, a disembodied, chipper female voice welcomed them to The Sonic, happily informed them that she was a trainee named Brenda, and then offered to take their order.

"Okay, Brenda, we'll have two double cheeseburger baskets- both medium well- two root beers, and a jumbo strawberry malt."

The voice cheerfully repeated the order, and asked if there was anything else.

"Yeah," Dante replied promptly. "Could I get the pickles on the side, no salt on the fries and an extra slice of bacon on the burgers?"

The voice repeated the order, sounding much less chipper.

"Oh, and could ya bring out a bottle of Tabasco sauce too? Thanks."

Miaka poked his arm. "How about some onion rings?" Dante nodded, and added it to their order.

The voice repeated the list, this time in a rapid-fire monotone.

"That's good, but make the onion rings a family size, with extra seasoning, and change the malt to chocolate." Dante corrected. "And we'd like extra napkins, two spoons and no ice in the root beers, please."

The voice muttered something unintelligible, then quickly gave him his total and signed off without repeating the changes he had made. "Humph, that was quick!" Dante said with a smirk. "Not even so much as a 'thank you for your order'."

Miaka smacked his arm lightly. "That poor girl! You are so bad!"

"Hey, it's my duty as a regular to break in the rookies!" He chuckled. "Have to give the kid credit- she didn't get flustered and there was no audible cussin'. I'll give her a good tip, providin' she doesn't give me any attitude when she brings the food!"

"Mm, I bet it's going to be wonderful, if the food tastes as good as it smells," Miaka said, as another waitress glided by them with a tray full of burger baskets.

"That reminds me." Dante said abruptly. "How did things go with your boss when you got back?"

"Fine, I guess." She shrugged. "I'm certain someone told him about you coming to see me, because after I returned from break, he glared, barked out a couple of orders, and then didn't talk to me for the rest of the day."

Dante's smile was tight. "Good. He's keeping his distance."

"Yes. I think he got the message that I'm not interested."

"Why would _any _woman be interested in that lech?"

"Believe me, Kevin has plenty of them trying to get his attention." Miaka sighed. "Alan thinks he likes being the hunter instead of the hunted for a change."

"Hm. Maybe." Dante inspected his nails. "So who's Alan?"

Miaka smiled, thinking of her friend. "A fellow chef-in-training and a good friend of mine." She said, then added quickly at seeing Dante's frown, "…who's gay and totally in love with Kevin!"

"Really? That's great!" Dante was unapologetically cheerful at hearing the news. "At least ya don't have to worry about _him _pawin' ya."

"True. " She agreed. "But I think I still might need to keep an eye on him, since he just happened to inform me that you're-and I quote- 'a delicious hunk of flame-haired man-meat'."

"A-_what_?"

Miaka laughed at his pole-axed expression. "That means he approves of you. He's all for us, and he' ll be pestering me for details when he hears we went out. As much as he gives me a bad time, he's a dear. I know he won't gossip about us to the others."

"I don't give a damn if he gossips." Dante replied seriously. "I'm just glad to hear you're thinkin' of me and you as an 'us'."

Miaka's smile slipped.

It was impossible to deny that she _was_ thinking of them as a couple. But she hadn't broken things off with Taka, which meant she wasn't quite ready to make the relationship official.

"I'm glad you're glad, " she murmured evasively.

His gaze sharpened. "You don't sound so sure about that."

"It's because of my hunger pangs." She fibbed. "By the way, why on earth did you order Tabasco sauce?"

His dour expression turned to amusement. "It's to put on my burger."

She gasped in mock horror. "You're going to smother the wonderful, rich flavor of American angus beef with Tabasco?"

"You bet I am." He drawled. "I like it as hot as I can make it."

Her face was what felt hot. She couldn't protest, because she enjoyed his teasing too much. It turned her on. She didn't know quite what to do about it.

She shifted, feeling a surge of restless desire that stirred up butterflies in her tummy, then arrowed down to pool in a very private area.

"Cat got your tongue?" He asked playfully.

Her response was to stick out the tongue at him, as she gave silent thanks that she wouldn't have to think of a comeback. "The food's here," she said, as an attractive young woman with a heavily loaded tray appeared at Dante's window.

She looked to be in her late teens. The name plate on her t-shirt announced that she was the trainee named Brenda, and at present, she was wearing an extremely disgruntled expression that spoke volumes of the trouble their order had given her.

All that changed, however, the moment the young woman bent down and got a good look at her annoying customer. Miaka watched with tolerant amusement as the girl did a double take and almost dropped the tray while trying to hook it on the edge of the window. As Dante made small talk, all traces of lingering temper vanished from her pretty face, and after handing him his change, she favored him with a smile worthy of a toothpaste commercial model.

"Did I get everything right for you, sir?"

Dante smiled. "You did a fine job, Miss Brenda. Sorry for givin' ya a bad time with the order."

The girl's face glowed with pleasure as he handed her a generous tip. "That's okay! I actually thought it was funny."

Miaka gave a barely audible snort. _You actually were as __mad as hell about the order until you saw the cute, sexy guy that placed it!_

The waitress put away the tip with painstaking care, then smoothed a strand of shining golden hair behind one delicate ear. The gesture was graceful, and emphasized her lovely bone structure. Ripe, full lips parted to give Dante a much more flirtatious smile. "Is there anything else you needed, sir?"

The gleam of sexual interest in the waitress' eyes was not lost on Miaka. Flickering jealousy burst into flames. Before Dante could answer the double edged question, she leaned over him and asked, "Excuse me, but could _we _get some mayo?"

Brenda looked startled, then irritated, then quickly pasted on a falsely polite expression. "Of course, ma'am. I'll be right back."

Casting a last lingering look back at Dante as she turned, she began to skate away.

Miaka glanced at Dante as well, and was gratified to see he was looking directly at her instead of the shapely, swaying behind of the retreating waitress.

"Sorry. _I _shoulda asked you what you wanted." He said apologetically.

"No, that was her job." She replied. "She must have forgotten she had two customers in the car."

Dante looked troubled, but before he could reply to her comment the waitress had returned. Smiling coyly, she handed him a plastic squeeze bottle full of mayonnaise, along with a folded pink slip of paper. Dante was fidgeting, and avoided the girl's eyes as he thanked her. Brenda hovered for a minute, but when it become obvious her handsome patron wasn't going to acknowledge her or her written offering, she skated back to her station looking very disappointed.

_You're out of luck, Brenda. Go fish!_ Miaka thought snidely, as she took the bottle from Dante and applied its contents to her food.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched him unfold the pink paper. A moment later he muttered something under his breath, crumpled the note and tossed it into one of the empty baskets.

She handed him the mayo, taking note of the dark flush on his cheekbones and the way he avoided her eyes as he took the bottle and set it on the tray.

"Gave you her phone number, didn't she?" She asked calmly, before taking a large bite of her burger. Closing her eyes briefly in pleasure, she savored the opulent flavor of top choice beef. Ah yes… Sonicburgers were _fabulous_.

He looked embarrassed and disgusted. "She saw I had a date! Why would she think I wanted it?"

Miaka smiled inwardly. Dante was a supremely confident man, and yet he had no inkling of his masculine beauty or the power it held over the opposite sex.

"I think she liked the way you looked and decided to take a risk," she said, between small sips of root beer. "She's young and brash and you're not wearing a wedding ring. I can't blame her for trying, even though it was pretty rude of her to do it in front of me."

"Well, I'm not interested." Dante met her eyes and smiled a little. "Now if it had been _you_, I woulda asked for it!"

She grinned at him and held out the huge container full of onion rings, thinking it was more than time to get their minds off the unfortunate episode. "Here, you better have one of these before I make them all disappear." Her eyes shone with humor as she hooked one of the golden rings with her forefinger and dangled it in front of his face. "You've eaten with me twice, so you know I'm not bluffing!"

He laughed as he slid the offering off her finger. "Yeah, really! Good thing I got the family size!"

A few satisfying, stomach-filling minutes later, Dante held out the enormous chocolate malt that Miaka had insisted they share, even though he told her that he had gotten it just for her. "Want the last of this?"

She eyed the cup for a moment, sorely tempted, but then shook her head. The waistband of her shorts had begun to cut into her abdomen, and she still had some root beer to finish. "No, really…you go ahead." She sighed. "Everything was _soooo_ delicious, but how do you stay in such great shape, eating like this?"

"Extra workouts, mostly." He said modestly, then downed the malt.

When he lowered the cup, there was chocolate foam left on his upper lip. Miaka giggled.

"What's so funny?"

"You look like a poster boy from those 'got milk?' ads." She teased. "Here."

He refused the napkin she held out. "Can't let it go to waste."

As the tip of his tongue emerged to collect the chocolate residue, Miaka averted her head to hide her face.

"How's that?" He asked, after taking and wiping any residual stickiness from his mouth with the napkin. "All gone?"

She glanced at his lips, then away. "Yes. You...you got it all."

Feeling inexplicably shy, she began to pick up the wrappers lying around them as an excuse for avoiding his eyes.

* * *

Dante allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. The visible effect he was having on Miaka was only fair, considering what she had been doing to him since they'd met. Getting a taste of her inner fire the other night set his blood boiling every time he thought of it - which was often, God help him.

Sukinami was a lucky dog. He believed her about the shower, yet hated the thought of the man having a key to her place, having the right to see her naked and trying to be intimate with her without guilt…

He scowled. The inner surge of power he'd been experiencing was starting to build again, along with the desire to focus its potentially destructive power on a certain Japanese businessman. A pleasant notion, but he immediately let go of it as Miaka's voice penetrated his emotion based fog.

"Dante! Are you all right?"

She looked worried.

"Hell yeah. Never been better." He said, wondering if that were true.

"Are you sure? Your eyes were closed and you were grimacing..."

"Yeah, I'm sure. It's just some brain freeze from the malt." He lied.

She looked sympathetic. "Ooh, those hurt! Do you want me to rub your forehead?"

"Thanks, but it's already going away." He touched his forehead, mentally squashing his unexplainable impulse to toast his rival to a crisp while he unobtrusively checked his watch. Good. There was still plenty of time left before decorum dictated that he'd have to say goodnight to Miaka and leave her at her door. He just needed to think of anything to do out in public that wouldn't carry a risk of them running into the boyfriend...or one of his co-workers.

One more thing to worry about, and a major pain in the ass. But he had to be cautious about dates until he'd worked out that particular wrinkle.

_"_I was just thinkin' that it's still early." He began. "If you're not in a hurry to get home, we could hang out someplace else for a while."

"I'm not in a hurry." She said shyly, and then gave him a suggestion that made him doubly glad he had asked. "There's the park near my building. It's got some really nice walking trails, and a great view of the sunset."

Problem solved. They weren't very likely to run into any of his buddies in a park, but if they did, it would soon be dark enough for Miaka to be almost unrecognizable.

"All right, let's go!" He said, and reached out to flick the call light indicating their tray needed to be picked up.

* * *

To their mutual relief, a middle aged waitress passing by stopped to get the tray. Her motherly smile and cheerful 'thanks a lot, you kids have a nice night' was like a balm, smoothing over the fallout from Brenda's unfriendly attitude.

_Hope we don't get Brenda the next time we come here._ Miaka thought_. That is, if there is a next time. After everything that's happened tonight, he might decide I have too much emotional baggage and unload me for good._

Dante started the engine, and then turned to give her a sober look. "Hey, it just occurred to me…I hope ya don't go walking in that park by yourself at night! Even during the day it can be dangerous- some of those trails are in pretty secluded areas."

"There's no reason to worry, I don't go alone." She said, liking that he was concerned. "Mizu loves to go for walks on a leash!"

"_That_ big ball of fluff is your protection?" Scoffed Dante. "Are ya kiddin' me?"

"Better not say that in front of him! Mizu is a lot stronger than he looks." She asserted. "I have no doubts that he could take down a human assailant. He has sharp teeth, killer claws and most importantly, is very protective of me."

"I have heard that cats can be way more vicious than dogs when they're threatened." Dante admitted. "So as pretty as he is, the boy's got some major 'tude goin' on, huh?"

"For certain!" She declared smugly. "Just be very, _very_ glad that my Mizu likes you so much."

* * *

After a quick stop at a convenience store, where they both used the restrooms and Dante insisted on picking up a big bottle of mineral water, they continued on to the park. The sun was barely hovering over the top of Pikes Peak by the time they pulled into the small, deserted gravel parking lot set next to the start of the trails.

Miaka smiled and thanked him as Dante came around to help her out of their vehicle.

"So which trail should we take?" He asked, after locking and shutting her door.

She slipped a hand into his. "Let's head up that hill toward the mountains so we can see the sunset."

"Sounds great to me."

Hand in hand, they strolled up and down the rolling trail she had chosen for a few minutes, chatting along the way. At the pinnacle of the hil, they paused to watch the red ball of fire slowly sinking behind the majestic topline of the Rocky Mountain range.

Miaka sighed. "I have to say that the sunsets here are some of the best in the world."

"I think so too." Dante said.

They shared a smile, and then continued walking into the lengthening shadows. The glow of the electric lanterns dotting the trail here and there had become noticeable, and the air had begun to cool. The lonesome call of a mockingbird gave warning that night was about to fall, as did the increased sounds of chirping crickets and the gargling croaks of bog toads.

As a black shadow swooped across the path in front of them, Miaka flinched and giggled.

"Mou, Dante! That poor bird better get back to its nest before it gets dark or he'll end up hitting a tree."

"No worries. It'll be fine."

"You sound very sure. Do you do a lot of birdwatching?" She teased.

He smirked. "Enough to know that it wasn't a bird."

"What was it then?"

"A bat."

Her smile froze.

"There are bats in this park?" She asked weakly. "I didn't realize. I've never walked here at sundown."

He glanced down, and at seeing her expression, let go her hand to wrap a protective arm about her shoulders.

"Don't worry about it." He said bracingly. "They won't go after you or get in your hair."

"I know they have a built in sonar...but... " She shuddered. "They're so silent. They come swooping out of nowhere. It makes me jumpy."

His arm tightened. "If you don't like them, I won't let 'em near ya."

His reassuring presence and words helped force the visions of being attacked from her mind. She was being silly, of course. There were no Kutou ninjas with trained killer bats stalking her path in this world. Dante would protect her, but the last thing she wanted was for him to think her a coward. "No, it's all right. It startled me, that's all. I just have to get used to them and I'll be fine."

She put more distance between their bodies to emphasize that she was fine.

"Oh look," Dante said casually. "There's another one."

She squeaked. "Where?" Not waiting for an answer, she scuttled over and burrowed back into his side.

"Mm, it's gone now. Better stay close, just in case."

"O-okay."

If she had looked up at that moment, Miaka would have seen the gleam from her companion's very satisfied smile. As it was, she kept her head down and thought back to the night that Tasuki and Hotohori had defended her during an attack from a vicious horde of vampire bats. Would Dante ever remember that time, and that he'd endangered his previous life defending her from that attack? Would he ever reprimand her as sternly as Tasuki had done the next morning for leaving him behind in the first place?

A small smile came to her mouth as she answered the question.

From what she'd seen so far, Dante would definitely yell at her. He was his own man, but when it came to being extremely protective and forthright, he and Tasuki were one and the same.

* * *

In spite of the fright she'd had, she was happy to walk along the trail for another twenty minutes before consenting to Dante's suggestion that they sit. As they meandered to a carved stone picnic table that was a short distance off the path, she was doubly glad to have his arm about her. They were on top of another small hill, in a more open area, and the breeze had dropped several degrees in temperature. No complaints would pass her lips, though, for she would rather turn into a block of ice than cut short one minute of this precious time with the man at her side.

Dante straddled one of the benches, sat down, and then held out an arm. "Plant that cute lil' butt of yours right here." He said, patting the space in the vee between his thighs.

Miaka did as he directed, facing away from him and leaning back as Dante wrapped his arms around her. She sighed with pleasure as his body sheltered her from the breeze and heated her chilled skin. "Mm, you feel nice and warm."

His chest rose and fell in a sigh, and his warm breath stirred her hair as he spoke. "You feel nice too."

The tone of his voice and the little squeeze he gave her went straight to her heart, and happiness bubbled within her.

"Dante?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to thank you."

"Okay. For what?"

"For tonight. And for... not giving up on me."

He smiled against her hair. "You're welcome."

Both of them looked up at the Rockies, whose night -blackened crests loomed against a sky liberally dotted with stars. The hush of tranquility fell between them as they gazed at the heavens, each of them thinking about their place in the universe.

After several minutes of contemplation, Dante broke the silence. "Miaka, could I get your opinion on something kinda personal?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"We haven't discussed religious upbringings, and I'm not wanting to go there at the moment. All I was wondering was... if you think it's truly possible for a person to have lived more than one life?"

Though she was startled, she didn't hesitate in answering. "Absolutely. How about you?"

"I think I do." He said quietly. "It's not an official part of my religion-I was raised as a Protestant- but my mama's talked about her belief in it for as long as I can remember."

_I must tread carefully._ Miaka thought. _I have no idea where this may be leading. _"It's a fascinating question to consider." She replied, trying to keep her tone light. "Have you had the feeling you might have had a past life?" When the muscles in his arms grew taut about her in response, she said quickly, "don't answer that if it makes you feel uncomfortable to do so."

"It's okay...I'm just not sure how to answer." Dante admitted. "When we're together, I feel as if I may have. From the moment you rolled down your car window and looked up at me, I felt like we'd already met! I can't explain feeling this comfortable around someone I 've known for only two days except to think that I might have known ya in another life." His chuckle was subdued. "The only other person I've had that feeling with was Bennett. In a different kinda way, of course."

His words filled with almost unbearable hope, but she chose the safer tack in asking, "What does Craig think about reincarnation?"

"Dunno. We've never really talked about it."

"Maybe you should." She suggested gently. "After seeing you two in action, I would be willing to bet that you and Craig were best friends in any life you've had."

Dante's laugh held affection. "In our neighborhood, we were kind of the misfits, the ones who wanted to be kung fu fighters and pirates and soldiers when everybody else wanted to be super heroes and cowboys." He chuckled, obviously relishing his memories. "We've had each other's backs since kindergarten. When we got older, we actually got serious about it and studied in five different martial arts disciplines. But unless Craig feels like gettin' his ass kicked or I have the time to join a tournament, I don't get to practice what I've learned much." Another chuckle. "And now I'm thinkin' that if I did know ya in a past life, you were probably scared off by my brawlin' badass reputation."

Miaka swallowed a hysterical laugh. "I like to think that I would have given you a chance. Being rough around the edges doesn't mean you can't be a very good person."

"I suppose. Anyway, this is kind of stupid, huh, talking about reincarnation when I don't have a clue as to how it could happen?" Dante asked ruefully.

She abruptly swiveled in his arms, wanting and intending to tell him face to face that she completely understood and even shared the feelings he had. But the opportunity was taken away just as soon as she had turned her head. Taking advantage of the close proximity of their lips, Dante's mouth claimed hers with tender authority, and everything she'd been about to say receded rapidly to the back of her mind.

When the kiss deepened, she moaned, winding her arms tightly around his neck as he moved to pull her more fully into his lap.

Neither of them noticed the slight-statured old woman hovering in mid air a short distance away.

_Will wonders never cease!_ The elder thought, gazing at the tableau below her with an expression of mild surprise. _Flame Boy actually took my advice. At this rate, the revivification process will be completed in time to produce tne shinzaho and keep the evil one's plans at bay._

With her stern features relaxed into an unusually indulgent expression, the apparition watched the embracing couple for a moment longer. Then, gathering her long pink shawl about her slight shoulders, she tactfully faded into the night.

* * *

As soon as Taka Sukinami had gained entrance to the inner sanctum of Thornton Investments headquarters, he was waved to a leather wing-backed chair placed in the center of an office he estimated had two times the square footage of his first apartment. Floor to ceiling windows lined one wall; heavy bookshelves, filled with books and artifacts from around the world stood against another. Beneath it all lay a tiled floor of fine Italian marble, and an illuminated conglomeration of crystal that formed a pyramid provided the crowning touch from above.

In the middle of all this corporate splendor sat fifty year old Victor Thornton, an imposing presence in his own right with his lion's mane of white hair, sensually hooded violet eyes, and an Armani-clad body of a man half his age. He was also the founder and CEO of Thornton Investments, as the thick brass plate placed on his desk proclaimed.

Taka had just told him everything he had observed about the appearance of the mysterious files, and now awaited the head executive's judgment. Thornton smiled as his report concluded, showing perfect rows of professionally whitened teeth in a bronzed, ageless face that bore no scars of the cosmetic surgeries so common for men of his age and financial stature. Taka suspected the man wore his hair in a tightly pulled back pony tail just to emphasize that fact. It was no secret to his employees that Victor Thornton prided himself on being the epitome of eternal youth.

"First let me say how much I appreciate you bringing this to my attention right away." Thornton said, in a crushed velvet voice. "I've already looked into it, and it's all a misunderstanding. Those files were supposed to be entered into the archive database for inactive and deceased clients. My assistant must have mixed them up with the active accounts I did assign you. I'll personally take care of deleting them, first thing tomorrow morning."

Taka smiled broadly as the burden of responsibility –and proof- dropped from his shoulders. "That's a big relief, sir. There's a lot of classified information in my client files that would be paradise for an identity thief or a potential embezzler. That's why I thought I should go right to you."

"I appreciate that, son. I wish more of my employees had your sense of integrity and loyalty."

"Thank you sir."

"How's that lovely and charming lady of yours?"

"Miaka's doing fine, sir, thank you for asking."

"What is she doing tonight?"

"I'm not sure, but most likely going out to eat. I was with her when you called."

"You broke a date with that gorgeous little girl?" The teeth flashed again. "Good God, man, I appreciate your dedication, but giving up your evening with a lovely lady to come here? If you'd told me to go jump in the lake, I wouldn't have blamed you a bit!"

Taka forced a laugh. "It's all right, sir. I was the one who asked to see you. Company and client security is of the utmost importance, and Miaka was very supportive. She understands and appreciates that I take my obligations seriously."

"You have a tremendous amount of tact, my boy! I'm sure that things didn't go as smoothly as that!"

"No, honestly, it was fine. She had made some plans for the evening that I didn't know about, so it all worked out for the best."

"I'm glad to hear it." Thorton leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. "But if you don't mind, I'd like to give you some advice. Man to man, as it were."

Taka blinked. He was feeling a bit uneasy, but the last thing he wanted to do was offend.

"No, of course I don't mind." He said. "I'd appreciate anything you'd want to share with me."

"Then here it is: beware of complacency, it's a relationship killer. Compliant behavior doesn't mean she's in agreement with the way you're doing things. That she let you break a date without any kind of fuss is a matter of concern."

Taka grimaced. He was definitely uncomfortable with the personal tack the conversation had taken, but he did appreciate Thornton's understanding of the situation.

"I know." He said. "And I've definitely been making that mistake-of being too complacent, I mean. I told her that when I left her, and that I'll be correcting it as soon as possible."

"Good man." Thornton stated approvingly. "Just like your clients, she deserves your full attention when you're with her. Woo her when you're together, and let her know she's on your mind when you're not."

"Yes sir. I will."

"Don't look so downcast. She'll be a bit unhappy with how much you're apart now, but if you go the extra mile to pay her extra attention, you'll get through this rough patch. I know you, Sukinami, and there's no doubt in my mind that you're on track to becoming the youngest Vice-President of operations this company has ever hired. Once you're there, and you're able to give her that huge wedding every woman wants, she'll realize the sacrifices were worth it. Which reminds me…"

Taka sat up straighter in his chair. Though benevolent, the look Thornton was giving him made it clear that whatever was to come next would be vitally important in advancing his career.

"As long as you're here, may I tap into your free time to request that you sentertain some top priority clients for me this weekend? I had planned on going to meet them myself, but unbeknownst to me, my wife booked a weekend getaway package to New York." Slightly thin lips twisted in a wry expression. "As you will see, I walk the walk as well as talk the talk. Part of being in a romantic partnership is knowing when to cater to your partner…and she was most insistent I do so."

Taka nodded.

"However, it does put me in a bit of a bind. These clients are very...special. Illustrious members of a family well known in the diamond business, and I can't just ask them to reschedule their trip. I'm trusting you to take care of them properly, since you showed such loyalty and dedication to the Thornton Investments group tonight."

Taka looked down at the martini that Thornton had stirred up for him upon his arrival. There was no question in his mind that this was the break he'd been looking for; everyone he had talked to about the CEO said that if the old man liked you, he'd ask a personal favor, and if you performed it to his exacting standards, it meant instant promotion. With that sort of promotion, he could afford to take Miaka back for a visit to Japan, or to fly their families to Colorado, or…to finally get married. Put in that perspective, postponing the overnight trip to what he considered a tourist trap town didn't seem so bad. He looked up.

"You can count on me, sir, I'll be happy to take care of them for you."

"Excellent! My secretary will make all the arrangements for you." Looking very pleased, Thornton rose from his chair and came around the huge mahogany desk. "There's no doubt in my mind that you're ready for this, my boy! I'll look forward to hearing how it went!"

Taka got to his feet, and the older man clapped a paternal hand on his shoulders as they walked to the door. Once there, he paused, looking thoughtful. "In fact, I think we should celebrate your success over lunch at the Phoenix Grill next Wednesday. I'm told the place has excellent food and drink, plus it will give you the chance to say hello to your lady at work. How does that sound?"

Taka smiled. "It sounds great, sir! I appreciate your confidence in me."

Thorton made a dismissive gesture. "No need for thanks. You've earned it."

The two men shook hands, and then Taka left.

When the door had closed behind his employee, Thornton stared pensively at it for a moment before returning to his desk. Once he had reseated himself, he opened a hidden drawer and reached in with both hands. When they emerged, they were cradling a clear crystal sphere, which began to pulse with light as he spoke to it.

"Did you hear all of that?"

"Yes..." a oily voice hissed. "Sukinami trusts and is loyal to you. You have implemented the first steps to my resurrection without fault. Considering your lowly standing in the beginning, you have greatly exceeded my expectations, Victor."

"Thank you." Thornton said. "I hope you will remember me as kindly once you're cursed with a fragile and aging human body."

The voice sounded amused. "It is not a curse to experience finite life. It is an enlightening experience."

"Is there anything else you require at the moment?"

"Not at the moment. Proceed with the plan as we discussed."

Thornton bowed his head. "As you wish, Master Miboshi."

**To be continued…. **

**Reviewers of this chapter will receive a burger, a bottle of Tabasco and a rubber bat.**

_Authors' note: Please keep checking the Maidens of Konan bio page and KittyLynne's bio page for story progress updates, other news, FAQ's, etc_


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Leather and Lace**

**By: Maidens of Konan**

_The Disclaimer: The rights to Fushigi Yûgi are owned by Yuu Watase. The rights to non-canon, original storyline, dialogue, and original characters belong to MOK. Please do not use, post or copy any part of this work of fiction without written permission; it would be such a pity to have the Four Gods seal you away with the despicable Tenkou and five thousand hungry, naked mole rats. Have a nice day._

_Chapter warning: sprinklings of profanity and some very heavy kissing_

_Song mentioned in this chapter was composed by Noel Hogan and Dolores O' Riordan, copyright 1992 Island Records. _

**Chapter Twelve**

A starlit mountain night, a gorgeous man and a passionate embrace; it was a scene straight out of her fantasies...only better, because it was real.

As Dante's lips worked their magic, Miaka closed her eyes and permitted herself to forget everything but floating on waves of pleasured happiness. It was exhilarating to be in his arms, feeling free of all earthly burdens. He brought all of her senses to life, made her world brighter just by being in it. She savored his taste, his every touch, and showed him through the passionate movements of her own hands and lips just how much she prized what he was.

* * *

In touching Miaka, Dante felt a door opening to a part of him that had lain buried and forgotten.

Everything about her being in his arms was familiar; she fit with him and his life as perfectly as if it had been preordained by some higher power. Kissing her wasn't only a precursor to further intimacy, it was another step closer to an important discovery, one that was as much about joining souls as it was about joining bodies.

Excitement spread like translucent wildfire within his being; he didn't need to look to know that the tattoo on his right forearm had come into prominence. Unexplainable as the phenomenon was, it also seemed natural and right. It was a sign they belonged together, a symbol of his unshakeable resolve and desire to keep Miaka safe, happy, and with him for always.

Reflecting that thought, his arm tightened around her waist and the fingers of his free hand tangled into silken waves of auburn hair, keeping her in a very secure hold as he took her lips again and again.

Several minutes and groups of people passed by ignored by the entwined couple on the picnic bench. But awareness of being in a public venue lurked just beneath the surface and kept them limited to hot and heavy kisses. When things threatened to go beyond that, Dante reluctantly separated their lips by raising his head.

He looked down with awe at the woman cradled in his arms.

A shuddering sigh escaped her lips, and her eyes mirrored the stars shining above their heads.

"Incredible." She breathed.

His hand slipped from her hair to gently stroke and hold her cheek. "Yeah. You feel it too, don't ya? I mean… that there's a hell of a lot more history between us than we know?"

* * *

If she had any doubts that Dante was aware of the timeless bond that ran between them, he had put them to rest. But just the same she had to ask, had to make sure she hadn't misunderstood. "You mean as in what you were saying before? That we knew each other in another time and place, and were destined to find each other again?"

His arm lifted and his fingers trailed through her hair once more. "Yeah, like that. The more we're together, the more I'm sure that our meetin' each other and hitting it off like we have isn't by chance. It's like some part of me recognizes you..."

Miaka nodded in affirmation, her heart thundering with a different kind of excitement than before.

Was this a breakthrough? Were the memories crossing over? Was it time to tell Dante about their adventures together in Konan?

It was an extremely tempting prospect to do so, but also a dangerous one. She was far from an expert at memory restoration. She didn't have the book, Taiitsukun, or her other seishi about to corroborate her story, and as far as she knew, there weren't any memory stones to be found in this world.

And it couldn't be overlooked that though he was open minded, Dante was a cop, which meant he dealt primarily with and in facts. To get him to accept an explanation without any tangible proof would require a major suspension of disbelief on his part. He would have to take it purely on faith and her word. Not an impossible feat, given the belief he'd just stated, but not having an idea of how to proceed if he ever did recall his past existence and their history together was reckless at best, and horribly negligent at worst. Some memories would prove to be painful, to say the very least. She needed to be fully prepared to help him cope with the fallout from any of those revelations, whatever they might entail.

The first and foremost revelation would be to tell Taka about Dante. Until that one happened, nothing else could move forward.

The brush of a finger against the tip of her nose caught her attention.

"Hey. Whatcha thinkin'?" Dante asked.

"That you're absolutely right. We did know each other in a past life." She was taking a bit of a risk saying that much, but knowing he was receptive to the possibility of being reborn, a general discussion on the subject shouldn't do any harm.

"You sound pretty damn sure."

"You sound surprised."

"I guess I am." He admitted with a half smile. "A lot of people I know would be tellin' me I'm kinda out there with that theory."

"You're not. What you are feeling is the truth. You and I did have a connection in the past." She stated with clear and unshakeable conviction.

Dante was watching her closely, and nodded, as if satisfied. "Gotta say that it makes me feel a whole lot better to hear you agree. It's not a normal kind of feeling...I wasn't sure if I was imagining things or what."

She simply smiled, not wanting to say or do anything to sabotage or impede what seemed to be a major step forward.

"And I was really hopin' I wasn't just imagining it," he continued, "because I'm all for us hookin' up wherever and whenever throughout time."

His wolfish grin made her giggle.

"Me too." She said.

"Good." His hand palmed the nape of her neck. "'I'd say now is a pretty good time, wouldn't you?"

His mouth came down on hers before she could answer. Miaka closed her eyes in silent surrender, allowing his lips and hands to reduce her to a mass of malleable putty as her arms lifted, doubled about his neck and pulled him closer. She arched her body into his and the kiss deepened, his stroking tongue and the hand caressing the curve of her hip moving in tandem, setting off a delicious quivering in her tummy.

His touch warmed her... tantalized her...made her crave more of him.

The craving was so strong, she had to express it with a moan.

Dante replied with a whispered endearment and the enveloping warmth of his hand upon her breast. He cupped it with a gentleness akin to reverence, then traced its circumference with his fingertips as she gasped, her head falling back against his shoulder. Taking quick advantage of her offering, he abandoned her mouth in favor of nuzzling and nipping his way along the tender curve of her throat while his thumb moved in circles over her hardened, cloth covered nipple. The combined onslaught of sensation made her curl her fingers into his shoulders as kindled desire burst into flames.

With swift efficiency, she pulled his t-shirt out of his jeans, then slipped a hand beneath it to caress the lean, muscled heat of his abdomen. Remembering what had pleased him before, she moved her fingers over him in slow, sensuous strokes, adding fuel to the fire that was building between them.

Dante groaned, shuddered, and lifted his head to reclaim her lips in another long, hot kiss. She responded with abandon, pressing herself into his body.

Scant seconds later, her mouth and her breast were released simultaneously and her roaming hand was dragged out from under his shirt. Her whimpering protest was muffled by a fierce hug, as Dante buried his face in the hollow between her neck and shoulder. His breathing came fast and hard, and his lips brushed warmth over her skin as he whispered,

"Hate to say it, but we better move on before someone comes."

She looked around in confusion. "There's no one here."

"Not now, but the park patrol will be comin' by soon, an' I don't want to be doin' somethin' that would get us cited for indecency."

She turned her head to whisper into his ear. "I don't care. I don't want to go."

"And God knows I don't wanna, but-" He broke off on a gasp as she began to nibble gently on his ear lobe. "Dammit, Miaka... you're making this way too hard!"

"Hmm. Is that possible?"

If her words hadn't, her soft laugh and the flickering caress of her tongue tip around the outer shell of his ear confirmed that she wasn't taking his protest seriously.

"Little minx! I didn't mean _that_!"

"Mmmhmm. Whatever you say, Officer." She lowered her head to his throat, caressing every inch of it with her lips, tongue and teeth.

Dante bit back a groan. How had she known those areas were extra sensitive for him? "Okay, ya gotta stop now...really." Pleasure weakened the directive as she drew some of his flesh into her mouth and gently sucked at it. "Ahhh...Miaka...are ya…mmmmm...listenin' to me?"

"No." She mouthed the solitary word against his skin, stirring stray tendrils of his hair with her quickened breath. Her mouth moved upwards to the sensitive hollow below his ear, and nuzzled it gently.

Dante sighed, closed his eyes and tipped his head to allow her better access. He was high on her, and no longer gave a damn if she knew he was in her power and had no resistance to her touch.

As she rained kisses over his jaw and trailed them down the length of his throat, he relished her attentions with quiet sounds of approval.

When her mouth sought his lips, they parted, allowing her tongue full access to his.

Miaka angled her head to deepen the kiss. Her breasts felt heavy, and the flowing sensation at the junction of her thighs was increasing. She shifted restlessly, then attempted to straddle Dante's lap to ease the erotic buildup of feeling. Unfortunately for her, the movement snapped him out of his amorous haze.

"Miaka." He groaned against her lips.

"Yes?" She moaned back.

"Gotta stop."

"Just a little longer-"

He broke off the kiss then, holding her firmly in place.

She blinked up at him in hurt surprise. "Dante?"

The unspoken plea was all too evident in her voice and her eyes.

"No more, dammit." His voice was low and rough. "I can't take any more."

"Didn't you like what I was doing?"

"God, yes!" He gritted. A hard press of his pelvis against her buttocks added proof to his words.

"Then why won't you let me -"

She made a move to touch him, but he caught up her hand in his.

"Because I can't unwrap a package that isn't mine!"

* * *

Right after uttering the words, Dante wanted to smack himself. Apart from the frustration of denying her what she wanted, what the hell was he thinking in dictating terms and handing out ultimatums after knowing her for two days? It was completely insane, especially when the other guy had been with her for years! And using sex as a reward for her deciding to dump the other guy? That wasn't exactly a game winner of an idea either!

_I've probably fucking blown it. But I won't give up! I can't! _"Ah hell, Miaka, I'm sorry. I've got no right to-"

"Don't apologize, Dante!"

He blinked, totally thrown by her vehemence and the shining tenderness in her eyes.

So she wasn't going to rip him a new one. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"You have every right to express your feelings to me." She continued. "You're an honorable man who wants to do things the right way. I place the highest value on that kind of honesty, it's so rare and wonderful."

A female considering his forthrightness an attribute? Had hell frozen over?

And on top of that, she was looking at him as if he were some kind of... hero?

He blew out a breath. "You're not mad?"

"How could I be when you're telling me the truth?" She sighed. "And you deserve the same. My truth is that I knew that I should have settled things with Taka before I went over to see you that first night...and definitely before going out on this date." She looked down at the ground, then up at him again. "Instead of handling things in the proper way, I cut corners and went full speed ahead in acting on my feelings for you. What I've done, and how I've handled this so far, should raise doubts in your mind about my character."

He gazed at her, pained that she would have to regret having done anything with him. "No way would I question that. You didn't know you were gonna meet me, that this was gonna happen. You've been nothin' but fair an' open with me and I know you're going to be honest with him when the time comes."

Miaka stared at him, cheeks darkening in the glow of nearby sidewalk lamps."But I still-"

"No buts!" He said, interrupting. "Everything I know and feel and see about ya says that you're a sweet, lovin' and loyal woman who wouldn't think of giving your body to a man without also givin' him this." She sucked in a breather as he covered her heart with his hand. "This is the whole package. This is what I want. When you're ready to give it to me...and only me... there's gonna be no holdin' me back."

* * *

His voice was like velvet over sandpaper, rubbing her in all the right places. His gaze was fiery and intense, and made her feel as if they were back on the couch in his living room.

She shivered, an involuntary reaction to heightened sensation.

In a second, Dante's expression had changed to concern.

"Hell's Bells, woman!" He exclaimed, running his hands up and down her arms, which were covered with goose bumps. "You're freezing! Whether we wanna go or not, it's definitely time to get you back to the car!"

Miaka held back the protest that it wasn't the cold, and the passion he ignited had kept her insides as warm as a toasted marshmallow, but her respect for his feelings about her situation with Taka precluded sharing that bit of information. Dante was right to put the brakes on, and he was both honorable and generous in insisting she make things right with Taka. Which made her feel even more disgusted with herself. Even if he wasn't questioning her character, she was wondering about it...

Why had it been so easy to slip into having physical contact with Dante when she'd been so adamant about rejecting those sorts of feelings in regards to any other man besides Taka up until now? Granted she'd been unhappy, and granted she'd had some lustful thoughts about Tasuki in the past year. But even if the last time in the book had brought her to an unwilling acknowledgement of a hidden attraction for the bandit warrior, and an awareness of the strong possibility that he'd cared for her in a romantic sense, the thought of actually exploring those feelings had been completely out of the question.

So long ago, she had had tunnel vision, and the man at the end of that tunnel had been Taka. She had come to the end of it now, but the view that had once been unchangable had been changed...not by magic or spells or wishes, but by her own heart.

Had Tasuki known that things had changed, or was there some other reason for him finding her?

What had to have happened to bring him here?

Miaka pressed her lips together to steady them. Just the thought of what the bandit seishi might have done to get to this point made her feel weepy and a lot more conscious of the nighttime chill.

As she began to shiver in earnest, Dante released her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her tightly against him. "That better?"

She snuggled into his side, as grateful for the solid reassurance of his presence as she was for his body heat. "So much better. Thank you, Dante-kun."

"Anytime, darlin'." He replied. "Anytime."

* * *

Dante's vehicle provided shelter from the elements, but no protection from forbidden thoughts. A melancholy fell over Miaka as she buckled her seat belt. All too soon Dante would be dropping her off at her apartment and putting an end to an unforgettable first date. Funny, how the thought of solitude- the same solitude that she had been craving after a hard day's work - had now become almost unbearable after spending an evening in Dante's company. She dreaded their impending separation and it wouldn't take much to throw caution to the wind to get him to stay.

But she owed it to Dante, Taka and herself to make an honest and thorough evaluation of her feelings. Making a decision based on raging hormones would be insensitive, careless, and wrong.

The sound of the engine roaring to life had her looking at Dante. His hand was resting on the steering wheel and she found herself staring at it . It was such a powerful, capable hand that she now knew could express tremendous sensuality and tenderness.

The hand moved to grab and hold out the bottle of water he'd purchased for her. "Here. You seem to be doing okay, but just to be on the safe side..."

She took the water with a murmured thanks.

Dante hastily averted his gaze as she unscrewed the cap and took a long swallow. "Would ya like to listen to some music?" He asked, keeping his eyes trained on the dashboard. In his experience, music was always a safe topic of conversation, and provided a convenient filler for awkward silences as well.

She capped the bottle and replaced it in the cup holder next to her before answering him. "Yes, that would be fine."

"Any preference as to station?"

"Whatever you usually listen to would be nice."

Dante flicked on the stereo and then switched to his favorite station. "This one plays a lot of American pop and rock classics." He said, then paused as he checked for traffic and proceeded to back out of the lot. With an expert twist of the wheel, they were off and he continued, "it'd s be nice if we had an alternative music station that played Japanese artists. Imported CDs cost an arm and a leg here."

"You've listened to Japanese music?"

"Yeah, Craig got me into J-pop. He's also got a bunch of manga and an anime collection you wouldn't believe!"

Miaka was beaming. "Really? I'm amazed. I didn't think anime was that popular here."

"Craig was ahead of the curve, but it's big now, and getting more so all the time. He used to have to special order the stuff, but now a lot of it is available for a good price in the big box stores or on online." He shrugged. "He still spends bucks on season sets, but he gets a lot more for his money than in the early years."

"What kind of anime does he like to watch?"

"All kinds. He's got the mecha and shounen fighter stuff you'd expect, but he's got all of Miyazaki's stuff, and some of the classic shoujo series too. He doesn't care who it's geared for as long as there's great plotting and character development. He can give you the run down on dozens of shows."

"That's wonderful that he's so open minded!" She enthused. "Do you think he'd be willing to lend some to me if I asked nicely and promised to be careful with them?"

Dante was quiet for longer than she thought he'd be.

"Yeah." He finally replied. "Yeah, he'd be fine with that."

Miaka frowned, wondering about the tension she could hear in his voice. "But I suppose it's too soon to ask him for a favor, isn't it? We were just introduced, after all."

"If it's you askin', he'll be more than willin' to say yes."

The odd note in his voice was stronger now. She turned to gaze at him just as headlights from a car coming from behind them illuminated the interior of the SUV. After catching a glimpse of her companion's expression, an inkling of understanding came.

"I would love to start an anime collection dubbed in English." She said brightly. "It would be nice to have your help tracking things down in the stores."

"You sure? I don't know as much about it as Craig."

Ooh, he was definitely not happy. She kept her voice calm, though she was filled with dismay at her mistake. "It sounded to me like you know quite a bit. And I would much prefer to go with you."

Once again there was a silence.

"I think that could easily be arranged." Dante said. "Just let me know when you want to go."

The car had gone by them, and it was too dark to see his face. He sounded a lot more relaxed, but...

"You mentioned music, and I do happen to have a nice collection of Jpop CDs that I brought with me from home that you might enjoy." She said. "I have some home baked chocolate chip cookies, I could make you a snack while you pick out the music you want, and you can take them home tonight if you'd like."

She sent him a hopeful, sidelong look. Though his features were still in shadow, relief washed over her as she detected the white flash of his grin.

"Homemade cookies and imported cds...Miss Miaka, are my ears deceivin' me? Are you tryin' to bribe a _cop_?"

"There's no 'try' about it if it works!" She shot back, and he laughed. "Oh, and did I mention that I have double the usual amount of chocolate in my cookies?"

* * *

Dante's mouth watered. He had a thing for chocolate chip cookies, anyway, and if they were baked by Miaka...

God, but he was weak. Weak, and totally, hopelessly smitten.

"I suppose I couldn't get in too much trouble if I'm busy stuffing my face..." He mused.

"Of course! Cookies are the world's safest and most wholesome snack!" Miaka interjected happily.

He couldn't help smiling at her, although he knew he should have his head examined for giving in to her whim. It was going to be hell not to be able to touch her, especially with her bedroom so close by.

But it served him right for getting so uptight over Craig, for crying out loud! The guy that he'd had a bond of trust with that went way back to their playground days! That Miaka and his best friend had honestly hit it off was a great thing, a desirable thing. But even though he knew that, and even though Craig had never broken their mutual 'no poaching on current or former girlfriends' pact and had also made it plain he was delighted to see Dante finally hooking up with a 'truly awesome chick', hearing her express her warm approval of Craig had made him as jealous as hell.

It was sobering thought to know he would have challenged even his best friend for a chance with her even if Craig had met and asked Miaka out first. Luckily, it hadn't happened that way. But having Craig do practically the same in making it clear if Dante screwed up, he'd have no qualms about stepping in, didn't exactly make him comfortable with his buddy's thoughts about the situation either. The two of them had more in common than he and Miaka did, what with anime and being in the food business, and...well, even if it wouldn't happen, he hated to think that there was any possibility that it could.

How messed up was that? He had never felt he needed to stake a claim on a woman when it came to his friend, but with Miaka, the need was front and center, fierce and territorial. Good thing his ornery inner voice was reminding him that this was the twenty-first century, and he damn well better learn to control those primitive feelings around Miaka or risk losing her.

Bad enough that finding out he'd not been forthcoming about his position on the force and investigating the boyfriend could definitely end up doing the trick anyway.

But there was a resolution to that if he was willing to sacrifice.

He'd tell her about his job, but explain that the law forbade him to discuss the cases he was involved with, which was the perfect excuse for omitting the specifics of the Sukinami investigation. The conflict of interest issue would take care of itself as long as he stayed where he was. Once he was off the hook with the commish, he'd talk to the Boss and ask if he'd let LaConte keep the Sukinami file and to assign him another. That would take care of the whole matter. What was giving up a case to another detective compared to the pain of giving up Miaka?

Feeling better that he had some semblance of a plan, he tuned back in to the pulsing beat and ethereal female voice now pouring from his state-of-the-art speaker system.

_Oh, my life…is changin', is changin' every day…_

_No shit!_ He thought with irony. _It kinda feels like my life ain't even mine sometimes._

As they came to a halt at a traffic light, Miaka spoke. "This is an oldie, isn't it? I've always liked it, but I never knew who sang it."

He turned his head to look into bewitching green eyes. "It's by a band called The Cranberries."

She laughed. "A group named after any kind of food is a group after my own heart!"

"Yeah, really." He chuckled, thinking of her amazing appetite.

"You know, Yui and I always listened to American pop songs whenever we studied English," Miaka confided. "Not only was it fun, it helped me with pronounciation and some American slang."

"Great idea, and you must have studied hard. If it wasn't for your accent, I'd swear that you were born here!"

"Thank you." She glanced away, embarrassed by his praise. "A lot of the credit goes to my ESL teacher. She used to say that total immersion is the best way to learn a language. I've had a lot of time to practice and study since I came here."

"I've always thought it'd be interesting and fun to learn Japanese."

"You would like to?"

The delight in her voice encouraged him. "Yeah. I don't suppose you'd be interested in teaching me some?"

"I'd be offended if you asked anyone else!" She declared. "And maybe in return… you would teach me how to draw?"

"You got yourself a deal." He said, holding out a hand.

They shook on it, and the amount of pleasure he felt in the confirmation was almost absurd. As the light changed and he set the Jeep into motion, Mariah Carey's uplifting voice poured into the silence, her words extolling the virtues of the dream lover to whom she'd given her heart.

"Dante-kun, have you ever watched the TV show called 'Ally McBeal'?" Miaka asked.

"Saw a bunch of episodes of it once it was in syndication." He replied.

"Did you ever see the one where the eccentric psychiatrist told Ally that everyone had a theme song and she needed to find hers?"

"Yeah, I remember that one! Tracey Ullman was a riot."

"Oh wasn't she? So funny!"

They smiled at the shared recollection.

"Why do ya ask?" Dante said.

"Well I was thinking even if it was meant to be funny, I think it's true about music helping you understand yourself." She hesitated. "This song could be a theme song for me right now."

"Because ya like dream lovers?" He asked with a sly smile.

"That's one reason." She gave a breathy laugh. "But more so that it's describing my feelings about us at the moment."

Dante listened, then felt his heart lurch. At that very moment, the vocalist was voicing a plea for her dream lover to come and rescue her from pretenders and disillusionment.

Did this mean she had been dreaming about him too? That was a good thing...but not so good that she was still afraid of being disillusioned. And he was a bit of a pretender. Until he'd come clean about work...

He turned his eyes back to the road as he made the vehicle surge forward amongst the sparse evening traffic. "Huh, that's funny. I was just thinkin' maybe it was _my_ theme song."

Even though his gaze was on the road, he could sense that Miaka's head swiveled towards him. In the illumination cast from the street lights, his peripheral vision could discern her questioning gaze. He flashed her a smile, and then directed his attention back to the road. From her expression, it appeared that she was wondering what the hell _he_ meant.

Well, too bad, it served her right for keeping him on pins and needles. There was too much of that going around lately.

An image of a wizened, cackling old lady popped into his thoughts, but he promptly banished it.

_Not__ goin' there! This is not the time to be thinkin' or talkin' about spooky old hags! _

_"_But you picked this one first, so I'll pick another one." He said aloud. " You familiar with a singer by the name of Meat Loaf?"

"A classic American rocker. Of course." She laughed. "Let me guess- your song is, 'Paradise by the Dashboard Lights'?"

She had surprised him yet again. "You know that song?"

"Yes. Believe me, I've listened to lots of the oldies." She said shyly. To prove it, she sang a bit of the chorus.

"I'm impressed!" He said. And he was. "But actually, for us tonight, the song I was thinking was more along the lines of 'Heaven Can Wait'."

He gave her a wicked grin, and laughed as she childishly pulled down her lower eyelid and stuck out her tongue at him.

"No? All right, let's keep on listenin'! Maybe the station'll play something that applies!"

* * *

Though they didn't hear a song that was exactly right for Dante's own personal theme, Miaka was happy. Once he'd gone from humming to singing, she had discovered yet another new facet to him...an emotive, enticing singing voice that had her too enthralled to concentrate on anything else. She looked forward to hearing him sing again in their next session of song choosing, and told him so. He modestly brushed off her effusive compliments by saying that he was an 'all right' singer, but if she wanted to hear a _great _rock voice, she should listen to Bruce Springsteen or Jon Bon Jovi.

As the spires of her apartment building loomed on the horizon, Miaka heaved a quiet sigh of regret. It had been a strange and exhilarating evening, and she wasn't anywhere near ready to let it go. Suggesting they have cookies, coffee and conversation in her apartment wasn't a bad thing, was it? Dante was trustworthy and a gentleman, and so when he said he wasn't going to make love to her yet, she believed him.

Nevertheless, her stomach clenched with anticipation as he pulled into a parking spot and switched off the engine.

"We're here," he said, unnecessarily. "Hold on, I'll open your door for you."

"All right."

Dante got out of the vehicle and walked around to the passenger side. Miaka collected her poise and her purse as the passenger door opened and his extended hand came into view.

"Arigatou." She said, accepting his offer of help.

He smiled. "That means 'thank you'- right?"

"Hai…very good! Now say it after me- 'arigatou'."

Her new student obediently repeated the word. Miaka giggled, and he gave her a mildly irritated look. "What? Did I say it wrong?"

"No, you pronounced it correctly," she assured him, "but it's quite a bit different to hear Japanese spoken with a Southern accent."

Dante laughed. "I never thought of that. I suppose it is."

They grinned at each other, until they realized her door was still wide open and he was still holding her hand. He apologized, in Japanese, much to her delight, and then let her go to shut and lock her door, much to her disappointment. However, that feeling quickly dissipated when he put a proprietary hand beneath her elbow as they began to walk.

It was an old fashioned and rather romantic gesture, Miaka thought dreamily. A very welcome one too, since the parking lot had poor lighting and rough stretches of asphalt. As Dante steered her smoothly around a pot hole, she smiled in appreciation, and then in growing amusement at the thought that her impolite, slightly misogynistic Tasuki had become the very embodiment of good manners- a true 'Southern gentleman', as it were.

They climbed the stairs together, with Dante on the outside rail. When they reached the top, he let go of her arm so that she could dig her keys out of her purse. Squinting in the glow of the security light above their heads, she concentrated on scrabbling through her handbag's contents until Dante started to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" She asked.

"Don't ya hear our welcomin' committee?"

She stopped digging and listened. Sure enough, a barrage of outraged yowls could be heard coming from behind the door.

"Oh dear. The poor thing isn't used to me going out on the week nights!"

She called out soothingly to the cat, then returned to digging for her keychain as Dante moved in behind her to shield her from the brisk wind that had sprung up.

"Do you have a carrier for Mizu?" He asked.

"Yes." She smiled as she pulled out the batch of keys and selected the proper one.

"How does he do with riding in a vehicle?"

"He hated it at one time, but I've gotten him so he'll tolerate it now. Why?"

"Well if he doesn't hate it too much, I was thinkin' that we could bring him along with us on our next date."

* * *

As Miaka turned from sliding the key into the lock to stare at him, apprehension clenched in Dante's stomach.

She looked totally thrown by his suggestion.

He didn't have a clue she would be, and that made him want to beat his head against the wall for taking her agreement as a given. As much as sharing burgers, a malt and an awesome make out session had tilted the scales in his favor for her wanting to see him on a regular basis, his giving her an ultimatum on their first real date might have tipped them the opposite direction.

There was only one way to find out.

"That is... if you're still interested in going out after tonight." He said.

Her smile restarted his breathing.

"Of course I'm interested!" She said, in a tone that implied he was daft for thinking otherwise. Her smile wavered into uncertainty as she added, "Are you sure that you're-"

"Never been more sure of anything." He said.

She was blushing as she turned to finish unlocking her door. "Thank you for including Mizu. Other, um, people wouldn't have even considered it."

Dante couldn't hold back a tiny grin, thinking that 'other people' most likely translated to one particular person. "Mizu's got class and smarts. I like that in a cat."

When the door was opened, a frenzy of indignant meows mingled with Miaka's loving exclamations as she bent to pick up her pet. Mizu wiggled in protest, but then cuddled in close to her chest as she began to stroke his soft fur from head to tail. Dante shook his head in amusement, then reached out to scratch the cat behind his ears.

"Yo, Fuzzy Fart! How's it hangin'?"

Mizu's response held a distinct grumble of complaint.

"Yeah, I hear ya. It's boring bein' stuck at home all by yourself." Dante said sympathetically. He leaned closer to one pointed ear. "No need to worry. I'll make it worth your while if ya let me take her out again!"

The feline's reply was to purr and administer an insistent head butt.

Miaka smiled at Dante as he continued to make a fuss over her cat, and then did a double take as she glanced down at her pet.

Was it her imagination, or was Mizu smirking at her?

* * *

Miles away in body and mind, Taka sat in his deserted outer office, which was illuminated solely by the glow from the computer monitor in front of him.

After leaving the meeting with Thornton, he had decided to finish compiling some financial reports for his accounts. Being that Miaka was out, and that he'd be busy with the old man's clients that weekend, it was best that get ahead while he could. Besides, it was amazing how fast things he could get things done, with no meetings to go to, no appointments coming in, and his phone not ringing off the hook.

An hour later he'd finished his work. He stretched lazily, and then set to shutting down his PC, but then changed his mind. On impulse, he logged in again, and went to pull up the set of files that had been assigned to him by mistake. Now that he knew what they were, he wanted another crack at opening them, just to see if he could meet the challenge when he wasn't distracted.

Ten minutes later, he was staring at an opened file with a dazed expression. The so-called client profile flickering in front of his face was shockingly familiar to him. Slowly, eyes never leaving the screen, he leaned back in his chair, with two questions burning in his mind.

These definitely weren't and had never been client files. Why the hell had Thornton lied?

And why on earth would he have a dossier about Miaka?

Maybe Thornton made an assumption without actually opening the stuff. Or maybe he hadn't wanted to admit it was from a background check on Miaka. It wasn't out of line for the company to cover their bases to make sure she was compliant with her paperwork for coming to the country. Perhaps this information was part of a follow up to see if she still had a valid green card?

If either of those things were the truth, why wasn't the information in his own personnel file?

There was probably a logical explanation for that too. And yet instinct was telling him not to dismiss the reason for the subterfuge or Miaka's presence in the database as inconsequential. That was why he was going to save the rest of the files on a disk to take home and look at before Thornton deleted them. He'd go over every single detail before asking questions, and then decide what to do.

Before he carried out the plan or anything else, he needed to call Miaka right now and tell her everything was well, but hat they would still have to postpone their weekend trip for a bit longer. No sense worrying her with what he had seen-he'd just tell her Thornton had given him an important assignment and leave it at that. She'd be angry and disappointed with him all over again, but he'd just have to bite his tongue and take it. Until he had some definite answers to give her, it was best to keep quiet.

* * *

Dante was seated on a barstool in Miaka's kitchen drinking his second cup of coffee and munching on his third cookie, when the phone rang.

Miaka answered in English and then made a switch to Japanese after she greeted the person on the other end. Dante scowled. Even if he couldn't understand what was being said, he could make an accurate guess as to the caller's identity.

It was a short and fairly one sided conversation, with Miaka giving short or monosyllabic replies before hanging up. In the ensuing silence Dante stared down into the dark depths of his coffee cup, trying to look as if he had no idea who had called.

As she plunked down on the stool next to him, he looked up with forced nonchalance. "Everything all right?"

Her expression was composed, but her voice shook with suppressed emotion as she answered his question. "Everything's fine."

"I don't think so." He pressed gently. "You sound upset."

Her chin lifted a fraction. "Frustrated is a better way to describe it. Taka has cancelled our plans for this weekend. Apparently the head of his company has personally requested that he meet with some important clients. "

"If the head of the company asked him. he probably doesn't have a choice, huh?"

She shrugged. "They must be big accounts, because Mr. Thornton's never offered him a bonus on top of an all expenses paid trip to the East Coast before."

Dante's prominent canines caught at his bottom lip. This was information the investigation could use, and his cop's instinct was back on high alert and yelling at him to pump Miaka for more.

But his heart was shouting even more loudly that being a cop right now would be the worst thing he could do if he wanted to be with this woman.

"So you're frustrated that he's going?" He asked carefully.

"Yes, because I wanted to get things resolved. Now I probably won't be seeing him until he gets back." Her shoulders lifted, then fell. "So. If your invitation for Friday dinner is still open..."

Her face was a mask of uncertainty, but he didn't have to think about it. Miaka had been priority ever since he'd laid eyes on her. This was a perfect opportunity to give her some much needed fun and relaxation while making memories that would help him gain a firm hold on her affections. Nothing mattered more than that.

Decision made, he turned to the woman at his side and placed his hand over hers.

"The invitation stands. But since you've been freed up for the weekend, why don't you and Mizu come an' spend the whole thing with me?"

**To be continued**…

**Reviewers of this chapter will receive a dozen Internet cookies, a platter of Meat Loaf and a Mizu keyboard warmer. **


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Leather and Lace**

**By: Maidens of Konan**

_Disclaimer: Fushigi Yûgi was created and is owned by Yû Watase. The non canon e__lements of this story be it character, plot or dialogue based are the intellectual property of the author(s). Plagiarizing is a no no, and will result in an embarrasingly public expression of retribution, sung and delivered by the Celestial Warrior Nakago._

_'Iris' was written by J. Reznik of the Goo Goo Dolls. No copyright infringement is intended in referring to it. _

**Chapter Thirteen**

Miaka's heart did a crazy leap and then did its level best to pound its way out of her chest.

The thought of a weekend spent at Dante's was thrilling, but also unsettling. Going out to eat or for a walk in a public park with him was one thing...but to be his guest for a weekend after just meeting him seemed hypocritical at best given her steadfast refusals to cohabitate with Taka even though they were in a long term relationship. And the fact that she was willing to reconsider her stance said volumes about her relationships with both men.

That epiphany was but the first drop in a bucket of her self-realizations, but she couldn't acknowledge the others until she figured out if she should go there.

She'd already made a choice in not telling Taka about Dante; the consequences being that she'd taken the path that could end in the ultimate act of infidelity.

But it wasn't that straightforward, was it? She'd stayed faithful for years, and after Taka had already made _his_ choice clear; work was his mistress, and his keeper. She had tallied up all the disappointment handed her in the past year, and had already been on the verge of reconsidering things with Taka. Her heart had set changes in motion, and meeting Dante had been the push to keep it going. Her task now was to use her head, to make sure she wasn't rushing into things out of the fear of finding herself alone, or out of a misguided longing for something that could not exist.

As far as Dante having been Tasuki and related intimacy issues- she was feeling fairly comfortable. Though things had gotten hot and heavy in the park, she hadn't experienced panic or the flashback that had her confusing Dante with Tasuki the night before.

But there still was no avoiding the certainty that an extended amount of private time with him would lead to…_that_, which brought her back in a full circle to the 'what should I say' dilemma.

Dante had made his feelings clear about not crossing that line until she'd officially chosen him. She agreed with him, one hundred percent. To say no until she was truly free to say yes was the right thing to do, the only thing to do.

The problem was she couldn't say no to herself.

"So whaddaya say, Miaka?"

He was looking at her like she had the power to grant his biggest wish. In desperation, she averted her face, but warm fingertips found the underside of her chin and tilted it back up.

"You wanna say yes, I can see it in your eyes." He informed her without conceit. "But somethin's botherin' ya. Let's get it out in the open."

She couldn't deny him. "I'm scared!"

Dante let go of her chin, looking as if she had slapped him. "Of _me_?"

She vehemently shook her head.

"Then what?"

"It's me."

"Huh? I'm not followin' ya."

Taking a deep breath, she blurted, "I'm scared of myself. I have no control over my impulses when it comes to you and I honestly think that my staying at your house is setting us up for an epic failure as far as not observing the boundaries you set tonight."

She looked down, feeling idiotic and relieved at the same time.

Dante sat back in his chair and stared at her for a long minute.

"Fair enough." He said at last. "Then I got another thing for you to consider."

"What...what is it?"

"First ya gotta give me your hand."

She placed her hand in his outstretched palm, enjoying the feeling of his fingers closing around hers in spite of her agitation.

"Now you gotta look at me."

She complied, her gaze lifting from their joined hands to his face.

"Thank you. That's better." Dante said. "So. First, let's be clear on one thing. If you decide to stay over, I won't promise that I'll treat ya like you're my little sister. It's a given that there's gonna be a kiss or two. Or more. Okay?"

She gave a nod, wondering if she should be reassured or more worried.

"Having said that, what I _can_ guarantee is that I won't let things get so outta hand that we can't stop. And I'm countin' on you to understand that, okay? When I say stop, we stop. When I have to leave, you let me go. No pushing the limits, okay?"

She nodded again.

"So we're both horny and we're both impulsive." He continued. "But more important than that is that we both want it to be the right time and the right way. That's what's gonna keep us both honest. So why be scared of what we feel? We just hafta communicate, let each other know when to back off." He shrugged and gave her a look that was surprisingly shy. "So there it is. Don't know how you feel, but if having to work out like a crazy person and taking two dozen cold showers a day means my getting the chance to know you better, then I'll do it."

For an impulsive guy, he'd made a logical and straightforward argument. Miaka realized she didn't need to give it much consideration.

_He's right._ She thought. _Why be scared? Nothing is ever resolved if you run away from it. It would be stupid of me to turn down this opportunity just because I'm afraid something might happen that I can't handle. _

In another second, her decision was made. "If you say we can do it, then we will. Mizu and I accept your kind invitation."

"Thatta girl!" He gently squeezed her hand."It'll be great, you'll see. There's a guest room for you and the kitty cat, and there'll be a place for his food and a litter box too. We can set ya up with the email thing, and at some point, you have to use the Jacuzzi. And there's no cooking allowed either- this weekend what we eat is on _me_."

As he grinned at her, Miaka felt her blush returning in force; there was a bit of chagrin that she'd adapted to his way of thinking so easily, but she couldn't help being pleased at the unreserved pleasure with which he solicited her company. "It all sounds wonderful, but please don't go to extra trouble on my account! I don't want you doing all the work in the kitchen, and a shower will do just as fine!"

"It's no trouble." He assured her firmly. "I cook, or I'll get us take out. And trust me, you're gonna be beggin' for a nice hot soak after a day of sightseein' with yours truly!"

She gaped at him. "You're going to take me sightseeing?"

"Well yeah! What kinda lame host would I be if I didn't show ya around town?" Dante exclaimed. "Cripes, it's just wrong that you've been here over six months and ya haven't even been to the top of Pike's Peak or visited the Garden of the Gods yet-" He paused, amber eyes narrowed in thought. "I don't suppose you've had any experience with horses, either, have ya?"

She stifled a laugh at the question. _We rode together plenty of times in Konan… if you could only remember! _"I actually have, but it's been a long while since I've ridden one. Why?"

"'Cause the best way to see Garden of the Gods is on horseback." He replied eagerly. "There's stuff on the trails that the typical tourist never gets to see! An early morning ride is best, then we can go get some breakfast. Mizu will have to miss out on those parts, though, 'cause of the rules about animals, but since ya have a leash for him, later we can take him up to Pike's Peak with us in the Jeep."

Miaka felt her spirits being lifted sky high. Dante's speech was delightfully free of the reticent 'ifs' and 'maybes' that always peppered her conversations with Taka whenever they attempted to make plans. In addition, there was no doubt in her mind that he would follow through on everything he had said and more. Like Tasuki, he was someone who she could depend on to be where he said he was going to be, and to do what he said he was going to do.

"That sounds fun!" She said, eyes shining with excitement. "I'm really looking forward to riding again!"

"We'll have t'get ya some ridin' gloves, though, to protect your finger." He briefly kissed the bandaged finger in question, and released her hand. "And now that's all settled..."

She stared inquiringly at him as he got to his feet. "Yes?"

"We both work tomorrow, so I suppose I better be hittin' the road."

His expression made it clear he wasn't happy about having to leave.

Miaka found she wasn't ready to let him go.

"But what about the CDs we talked about?" She asked, in a fit of inspiration. "You can't leave until you pick some to take home!"

Dante's expression lightened. "That sounds like an offer I can't refuse."

"They're out in the living room. I'm just going to make some more coffee and take care of the dishes and then I'll get them for you."

She stood and reached for a plate, but he stopped her.

"I'll do those. Your finger has to be hurtin'."

It was, but she didn't want to give him any cause for concern. "Thank you Dante, but I can manage-"

It was apparent he wasn't going to listen when he plucked the mugs and plates out of her hands and carried them over to the sink. Then, also without asking, he turned on the faucet and proceeded to squirt soap from the dispenser standing next to it, showing the ease of a man long used to doing his own housework.

Miaka grinned, then sat back down and took advantage of the opportunity he'd given her to watch him from behind. Her admiring gaze wandered freely, taking in broad shoulders, a back that rippled with muscle, and a taut, toned butt that filled out his jeans in a way that made her hands itch to grab hold of it.

Really, she was getting just as shameless about ogling men's attributes as American girls! But who could blame her for acting a little out of character around this impressive specimen of manhood? Strong and sexy and vibrant, Dante had been gifted with Tasuki's masculine beauty, a beauty which she admitted she hadn't taken time to appreciate in the past. But this was a different time, a different place, and she was a far cry from the unseeing person she had been at fifteen. Right or wrong, for good or bad, there was no denying that she now wanted the pleasure of looking her fill.

It was her misfortune that Dante was extremely efficient and soon finished the task of washing, rinsing and drying. As he turned to face her, she guiltily jerked her gaze up to his face, only to feel herself succumb to a most delightful view once again.

The man was a masterpiece twice over. She could take him in for forever and a day. Those eyes, they were beautifully expressive, so hot and mysterious...and suddenly, she was back in a remote mountain cabin, held in thrall by a Phantom wolf's predatory gaze…

"Earth to Miaka! Please respond, Miaka!"

She gave a start, and then an uneasy laugh. "Sorry. I was spacing out a little."

"Huh. I guess you were."

His smirk and the gleam in his eyes told her that Dante had a good idea of what she'd been contemplating, but her feminine pride wouldn't allow her to acknowledge it.

"Thank you for doing the dishes," she said, lifting her chin. "It was very nice of you."

He grinned at her prim expression. "You're welcome. What cupboards do ya keep 'em in?"

"You've done enough, Dante-kun. Just leave them on the counter, it'll give me something to do later."

"All righty." He obediently set the dried dishes on the counter along with the towel he'd been using, then followed her as she led the way to the living room.

* * *

Her entertainment center was tucked away in a far corner of the room, and housed a brand new television, a DVD player, and stereo system. Behind her, Dante let out a soft whistle as he read the brand and make of the equipment.

"That's a first rate set up ya got there." He remarked, as she pulled out a CD case from a storage area beneath the television.

"Thanks." Miaka said briefly. She always felt uncomfortable talking about her more extravagant possessions, whether it be to friends or her family, not to mention being certain Dante wouldn't like the answer as to where she'd acquired them.

She was both relieved and grateful that he didn't ask as he took the case out of her hands.

"Please don't hesitate," she urged, as he made his way over to the couch and sat down. "If you see something you'd like to have, just take it!"

A silence followed in which she belatedly realized how her words could be misconstrued.

Sure enough, the look Dante was giving her would have melted ice.

"Um...er..." This was ridiculous. She was tongue tied again.

"Why thank you, Miss Miaka." His accent was as thick and deliberate as honey sliding from a spoon. "Be assured that I'll be doin' just that."

Her exhalation was shaky as he turned his attention to unzipping the CD case, but flustered or not, she was unable to look away from his hands as he lifted the cover and his lean, strong fingers slid over the row of jewel cases in a way that made it all too easy for her to imagine them caressing her flesh. Ripples of desire lapped at her loins, begining to submerge her in yet another fantasy...

...until something soft and furry saved her further embarrassment by insistently bumping her ankles.

In an instant, she emerged from her reverie to find her pet actively encircling her feet.

"Are you hungry, my little neko?"

A glare and a mew confirmed her guess.

"I'll go and get you something right now." She promised, bending over to caress the feline, grateful for the task and the excuse it provided for her to go and regain her composure. "Excuse me, Dante, I'll be right back."

"Okey dokey."

As Miaka left the room, her guest shot an half-amused, half-exasperated glance at the cat, who padded over and jumped up to sit next to him on the sofa.

Unblinking eyes returned the look with a stare that was more of an unspoken command.

Taking the hint, Dante obligingly reached out and began to scratch the feline behind his ears.

"Gotta say that I'm jealous as hell of ya, Mizu." He confided in an undertone. "You're pretty damn lucky to be sleeping with her every night- you know that, don't ya?"

The purring Siamese stretched out on its side, smirking at him.

Obviously, it knew.

* * *

Twenty minutes later Mizu had finished his treat and fallen asleep in a nearby chair, while Dante had selected a number of CDs that he could honestly say he was very excited to hear. On top of that, he had managed to regain most of his good humor by thinking that in less than three days Miaka would be in his territory and away from anything that reeked of her boyfriend and his dirty money. The worried look on her face hadn't escaped him, and he knew its cause. He also knew he didn't have the right to say anything about her getting rid of certain possessions…yet.

Nevertheless, when Miaka excused herself to go and find a bag for his borrowed loot, he seized the chance to take a longer look at the costly sound system, and then wandered around, checking out the artworks, glass vases, candles and brass decorations that were strategically placed about the room. As he did so, his initial impression of the décor was strengthened; though the room's expensive furnishings were tastefully understated and stylish, none of them captured Miaka's warmth and down- to -earth personality.

Obviously, she didn't spend much time in this room. Even the entertainment center bore the look of disuse; there were barely any fingerprints on the glass doors, and the TV still had its sales sticker on it. He resisted the urge to look to check for a price by speculating what she did when she was alone if she didn't watch TV. But t_he thought that any of those activities might have involved Taka Sukinami_ only served to irritate him, so he moved on to the framed photographs on one of the end tables next to the sofa, the only items that did anything to bring a touch of home to the room.

Curious to see who and what the pictures contained, he sat down on the sofa and reached for the nearest frame. It was a candid shot of Miaka and a blonde he recognized as her best friend Yui, along with a laughing young man that, by virtue of his looks, had to be Miaka's brother, and sunglasses wearing young man who looked to be with Yui. He smiled at it, then set it down and picked up another.

This one showed Miaka with an arm slung around a middle aged version of herself, who he guessed was most likely her mother; though their hair styles and coloring were different, their eyes and their smiles were certainly the same. She looked like a nice lady, but he couldn't help wondering how she would feel about her daughter hooking up with a foreigner, an American in particular.

Guess he'd have to cross that bridge when he came to it.

The last photo was the largest and was of Miaka with Taka Sukinami. It had obviously been taken by a professional at some corporate gala, for both were dressed in the kind of formal attire typically worn by the movers and shakers in the society pages. Maybe this was the picture in the paper that Craig had seen?

He stared at the photo in masochistic fascination, and felt his gut clench with jealousy at the sight of the proprietary masculine arm wrapped around Miaka's shoulders and the glowing look she was giving the man.

It must have been taken back when she'd first arrived in the Springs. She looked happy and excited.

_Well, what did you expect?_ He chided himself. _He's been her boyfriend for years. She's gonna have a few pictures of him and her lookin' like this._

He went to set the frame down, then stopped and frowned at it.

There was no question that Sukinami gave off a positive vibe. He had impeccable style and princely good looks. He appeared to be in great shape, happy and supremely confident in his future. But then again, who wouldn't with someone like Miaka standing at his side?

But despite an assumption of ample intelligence, this Taka had to be some kind of an idiot, otherwise he'd see how he was losing his girlfriend. If he could talk to the man right now, he'd give him a piece of his mind.

How stupid was it to make a girl as sweet and loving as Miaka wait for him?

How unforgivable was it to feel justified in making her unhappy?

_You've made her cry. I can't forgive you._

Caught up in his musings, Dante barely noticed the familiar surge of pure energy that jolted through him_. _

In his mind's eye, an image formed- a sneering, ninja garbed warrior named Taka Sukinami.

The sounds of paper being ripped to shreds and heartrending feminine sobs filled the air.

Sukinami's smile was cold and pitiless as he lifted his arm with a jerk and brandished a nunchuk over the bowed head of a woman-

Miaka.

Dante sucked in a sharp breath.

"_Tamahome!_" A voice growled in his mind. "_You crushed her spirit! I ain't gonna let it happen again!"_

He saw himself springing into action as the black clad arm snapped the weapon downwards with a vicious clatter of chains; a dull roar had filled his ears- intense fury, mixed with a speed induced wind…

"Dante!"

As soon as he heard his name, Dante's eyes flew open. Heart still pounding with adrenaline, he tensed, then relaxed as he saw Miaka standing in front of the coffee table.

"Are you all right? You weren't answering..."

Her voice trailed off as she stared at him.

It was then that he noticed the faint crimson colored light emanating from the vicinity of his right arm.

_Shit, the thing's really lightin' up this time! _Covering the glowing phoenix with a hand, he managed a reply. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"You're all flushed." She stated anxiously. "Do you think you're coming down with something?"

Dante almost lifted a hand to his brow, but caught himself and kept his arm covered. _She had to see the red light. _He thought._ There's no way she could have missed it. But she's acting like it's normal and not sayin' anything- ah, what am I saying? She'd be too damn polite to mention somethin' so abnormal! _

"I'm okay." He said aloud. _Strong emotions must trigger it somehow_. _I just gotta calm down and it'll go away_. _I just gotta_ _relax. _

With a concentrated effort, he found that he could let go of the anger that was still lurking in the depths of his mind. Relief took its place as he sensed a decrease in the energy that had been building up within him. He cast a quick glance down at his arm; was it his imagination, or had the light beneath his fingers also grown much fainter?

Cautiously, he let go of the picture frame and then lifted the hand covering the tattoo by degrees. A sigh of relief escaped him at seeing that it was back to normal, and the red-tinged glow had vanished.

_It worked_. W_eird! Too fuckin' weird! _

_"_Is there something I can do or should know, Dante?"

The question was calmly spoken_, _but Miaka was still regarding him with an intensity that said he was going to have to do a better job of assauging her concern.

"No, I'm fine. I was pettin' Mizu an' lookin' at all your pictures, and I must have nodded off for a minute. Next thing I know I'm having a bad dream. You callin' my name woke me up. That's all."

Not a lie, not the whole truth, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her about the little 'episode' he'd just been having until he had a better idea of what it all meant.

Why was Sukinami dressed in black and using a weapon? And who the hell was Tamahome?

She wasn't appeased by his quick explanation. He could tell by her frowning reaction. But how much worse would it be if he shared some of the bizarre visions he'd been having about Sukinami, or her being in some kind of a bubble, for that matter?

Even now, the thought of her finding out was propelling him to his feet.

"Dante-"

"There's nothing to tell. I nodded off and musta been dreaming." He echoed stubbornly. "I think it's time for me to go. You're looking kinda tired too."

"Maybe I do, but I don't feel tired." She said. Her gaze wavered, and then fell away from his. "I'm sorry if I've kept you too long. It's been nice to have someone here to talk to for a change. Mizu's good company, but…it's just not the same, you know?"

The sadness in her eyes and the melancholic catch in her voice hit Dante like an arrow, and all thoughts of leaving her crumbled under its impact. Hell's Bell's, he didn't really want to go. He had only suggested it as a way to divert her attention from his strange behavior.

Which had worked, not that it brought him any satisfaction.

What mattered was that his leaving so abruptly would make Miaka unhappy. Knowing that, there was no way in hell he would refuse her request. Their boundaries would not be compromised if he stayed a bit longer. He could handle it, because his reason had nothing to do with his desire to get her into the sack.

Well, very little to with it, anyway.

He'd just have to make sure to keep tight control over his emotions, and that was that.

"I know. Livin' alone can be a real bitch sometimes." He agreed huskily. "I'll stay a little longer. But you have to promise to kick me out before midnight, okay?"

"Okay. I think maybe we should have another cup of coffee and another snack." She said, and turned and trotted towards the kitchen.

Dante chuckled and followed her. "Sounds like a fine idea."

* * *

They took the coffee and cookies to the sofa in the living room this time. A comfortable silence had fallen, since neither of them felt much like conversing at the moment; they were just content to bask in the glow of doing something as a couple.

"Did you want to watch the late edition news, Dante?" Miaka finally asked.

"Not really. I get enough of that reality at work." He replied. "How about listenin' to some music? We still have to find me a theme song."

Miaka reached for the stereo remote control lying on the coffee table in front of them, and tossed it over to him with a smile. "Here you go! Go ahead and knock yourself up!"

With a happy sigh, she settled back against the cushions, proud of showing Dante her command of English slang. She'd been practicing a lot of new catch phrases, but had very little chance to use them in regular conversation.

A sound like a muffled chuckle reached her ears.

Bewildered, she turned her head to find that her guest was shaking with suppressed laughter. "What's so funny?"

It was a moment before he could answer.

"I think I should tell you that the phrase is 'knock yourself out'." He explained matter of factly. "The phrase 'knocked up' is actually a slang reference for…um… being gettin' someone pregnant."

"Oh." She sighed. That was what she got for trying to show off. She bowed her head to express her regrets. "Gomen nasai, Dante-kun. I hope I didn't offend you by implying you should get pregnant."

She thought she'd handled it well, but to her consternation, he seemed to be finding her apology to be almost as funny as her mistake. If it had been Alan or Hannah correcting her, she would have laughed with them at her mistake, but this was different. She wanted Dante to admire her, and to be proud of her, but he was American, and she was Japanese. The cultural differences between them could end up causing him embarrassment in front of his family and friends. Just the thought of it had her face burning with mortification. "I'm sorry. I'll do better."

Dante took one look at her expression, and was instantly sobered. "You're doin' just fine, Miaka. I shouldn't have laughed, but I couldn't help it. You're so damn cute when you do things like that..."

The remorse in his voice and the comforting hand covering hers went a long way towards soothing her ruffled feelings, but she wasn't ready to let him off the hook just yet. "In Japan, a man would have taken great offense to my comparing him to a woman in any way." She stated coolly. "That's why I apologized for the insult, as I was taught to do by my mother."

"An' I'm an idiot who doesn't deserve the sweet and gracious one you just gave to me! I owe one to you…and I hope I do this right..."

He stood up, moved in front of her.

"Gomen nasai, Miaka. Please forgive me for hurtin' your feelings."

Then he executed a perfect bow.

She looked up at him, feeling a new kind of heat, one that had nothing to do with shame or embarrassment.

Up until now she couldn't have imagined someone not of her culture being able to pull off such a graceful apology without tutelage-not even Taka had done one this well. It made her feel hopeful, that although there were bound to be many disparities in their cultural and social upbringings, and even though these kinds of misunderstandings might often prove frustrating, they could provide opportunities for increasing their mutual respect and appreciation for each other.

With that thought, she stood and embraced him.

After an initial moment of surprise, he hugged her back with an enthusiasm that lifted her off her feet and made her giggle.

"Great job." Dante said, when they drew apart. "A classic, American style apology. It was just right."

"You did well too." She said, smiling. "Now let's just sit back down and enjoy some music, okay?"

"Okay!"

* * *

Dante had no problems wielding the stereo's complicated remote, and soon found the same radio station they had been listening to in the Jeep. The deejay announced that it was a commercial-free hour, and Miaka leaned back against the sofa, sipped at her coffee and listened intently to the songs that came one after the other.

Though none seemed right for Dante's theme, there was one that stood out for him as having captured the mood of their relationship.

"The Goo Goo Dolls. This one's called 'Iris'." He commented, after a few seconds of listening. "An outstanding song."

Miaka nodded her agreement as their gazes locked. "They're a well known band where I come from. One of their albums, 'Bang' was released exclusively in Japan." She smiled. "Some of their stuff isn't for me, but I think the guitar parts in this one are beautiful."

"The lyrics in this one speak to me." Dante replied in a low voice.

His eyes fixed on the coffee mug he clutched in both hands, he softly sang along with the chorus. When the song had ended he looked up, his expression dark with purpose. Miaka remained motionless as he deliberately set his cup down, then took hers and set it next to his on the coffee table before turning back to her. Caught in the hypnotic amber depths of his eyes and swayed by the power of music, she felt compelled to speak.

"Dante, listen. There are a lot of things you don't know about me and - "

He made a shushing gesture. "I have things t' get off my chest too, but let's leave it for the weekend when we'll have more time to discuss them, okay? I don't want us to start spillin' our guts to each other right before I hafta leave." An apologetic smile curved his lips. "An' I _am _going to have to go home soon, darlin', 'cause I've gotta be to work at six."

She was aghast. "I'm so inconsiderate! I should never have asked-"

"Hush now. Even if ya hadn't asked, I woulda found a reason to stay longer." His eyes smiled at her as he moved closer. "So, Miss Miaka...since we're gettin' into cultural exchanges...what would ya say to an ol' fashioned American goodnight kiss?"

Her answering smile was as sweet as sugar as she slid her arms around his neck.

"What do _you _think?" She whispered, then said no more as his mouth covered hers.

* * *

One kiss had actually turned into several before Dante finally found the will to disengage himself from Miaka, pick up his bag of music, and make for her door. She trailed after him out into the entryway with meandering steps, feeling as if she were treading on air.

"Make sure ya lock and bolt the door after I leave." He informed her in stern tones, as they paused in the foyer. "There are an awful lot of weirdos runnin' around out there."

Miaka simply nodded as she stared up at him with a dreamy smile; not even the knowledge that he had switched to 'cop mode' could break the romantic spell Dante had just cast upon her. The kisses he'd just given her had been different than any they'd exchanged thus far; they had been like moonlight and roses, and a soft, cozy blanket being wrapped around her…making her feel safe, cherished, and wonderfully pampered all at once.

She wasn't quite ready to let go of those feelings. On impulse she flung herself at Dante, wrapping her arms tightly about his waist. His shoulders fell back against the door under the impetus of her weight, and he gasped out a laugh as his arms automatically rose to encircle her.

"Whoa! What's all this about?"

"I'm so glad I met you!" She declared with joyful abandon. "You make me so happy!"

He looked stunned for a moment, then a blinding smile lit his face. "Back at ya, sweetheart!"

She snuggled in as close to him as she could, even though it meant she'd have to tilt her head even further back to meet his gaze. A dull red tinged Dante's cheeks as she pressed her body against him. He gave her a fierce squeeze in response, then grudgingly released her as she slowly backed out of his arms.

"Thank you so much, Dante. I had the best time!"

"I hope so." He said, thinking of her earlier tears, then asked quickly, "Is it okay if I call ya tomorrow after work?"

She nodded, her expression shining with pleasure. "I'm on the lunch and early supper shift so I'll get home around seven-thirty. Would eight o' clock work for you?"

"'Course it does." He confirmed, a bit throatily. "Eight it is."

* * *

The light in his eyes gave Miaka goose bumps of happiness. She smiled as her arms fell to her sides. "I'll be waiting."

There was nothing more to say. After giving her a final -and markedly possessive- kiss on the lips, Dante quickly turned, flung open the door, and stepped out into the cold mountain air. He paused, not turning around, waiting for her to shut and bolt it behind him, which she reluctantly did. Then she leaned her head against the door, listening to his slowly retreating footsteps until the sound had completely faded away.

He was gone. An ache swelled within her chest as she went back into her living room, which seemed colder and emptier than ever before.

Her gaze fell on the picture of her and Taka, which was out of place, then moved on to the sofa, where Dante had been sitting and dreaming.

His phoenix had been glowing.

She moved on to the table holding two coffee cups, one of which had felt the touch of Dante's lips. then lifted her hand to her mouth, which still tingled from his farewell kiss.

Such a roller coaster of an evening.

Heady. Intense. Confusing. Wonderful.

Bittersweet.

One evening, and she couldn't imagine living out a life without him in it.

To her right, Mizu was stirring in a chair.

The cat stretched, then sat up with an inquiring meow, for his mistress seemed to be frozen in place, her expression now hovering somewhere between agony and ecstasy.

"I'm in love with Dante, Mizu." She announced.

And then burst into tears.

* * *

Once he was on the road, Dante discovered that he was too keyed up to go straight home.

His mind was buzzing, constantly replaying everything that had happened on the date, everything that Miaka had said and everything she had done, until he was ready to scream with the sheer bliss and frustration of it all. Bliss, because she had made it very clear tonight that she harbored tender feelings for him that went way beyond physical attraction. Frustration, because there were two major things that kept him from going all out to win her; the fact that he hadn't set Miaka straight about his job for one, and that she was still seeing Sukinami, for another. He had to hold back until those things were resolved, but damn if it wasn't eating away at his gut to do so.

By nature, he wasn't a patient person. He had been able to learn patience for things related to his job, but when it came to women, it had never been an issue, mainly because he hadn't cared enough to worry about any of his relationships. The woman had done all the pursuing, and he had merely sat back and reaped the benefits.

That would never, ever happen with Miaka.

It had been sheer hell for him to even walk away from her door knowing that she was still standing on the other side of it. After tonight, after what she had said to him -and _how _she had said it- he wanted her so badly it had physically hurt him inside. He had her trust, though, and he cared too deeply about that and what she thought of him to try to manipulate her with sex. When she decided to leave Sukinami and come to him, he wanted it to be of her own accord, otherwise he'd always have doubts regarding the reason why she was with him. Sex was good, sex was important, but trust counted more than sex in a long term relationship.

Sukinami had been her first lover. He couldn't underestimate the power of that shared history. Or feelings of loyalty and duty... something Miaka held in spades for the man, for good reason.

For now, it would be enough to know that he had a fighting chance of winning her heart, and of earning that same kind of trust and loyalty. It wasn't out of line to think that, because having him around made Miaka happy- she had said so herself! Hearing those words had meant the world to him, and he'd do anything to put that same glow in her eyes every time they were together!

He would show her what love meant and make her love him, using every weapon he had in his arsenal. As he had told her in the park, they were meant to find each other and to be together.

He had to be patient. He had to keep believing that things would work out for the best. And he had to try not to act like a horny, sex-starved dog in the process of being patient and optimistic.

A fanged grin born of irony parted Dante's lips. Never, not even in his randy academy days, had he _ever_ gotten so worked up over a woman. The feelings he had then weren't even pale imitations of what he was experiencing. The term 'passion' was weak. It didn't come close to defining what he felt for Miaka.

Explosive. Insatiable. All-consuming.

Those were more like it.

Adrenaline was powering through his body, filling him to the point where he felt he was going to jump right out of his skin.

He needed to break free from the confines of his vehicle, needed to find a way to rid himself of this pent-up excess energy- and the sooner, the better.

Glancing around for ideas, Dante smiled as he spotted a sign for a popular all-night supermarket.

It was the perfect solution: he could pick up some groceries for the weekend, work off the crackling energy within him, and get control of his burgeoning emotions in one fell swoop.

* * *

Due to the lateness of the hour, there were only a handful of vehicles in the market's vast parking lot. Dante swung the Jeep into a spot right across from the exit. A minute later, he was walking through the open air entry and into the store. Snagging a waiting cart with one hand, he cruised over to the produce section. Large pallets full of crates were stacked here and there, and a couple of stock boys were busily prying them open and dispersing their contents onto several displays. Dante hesitated, then pushed his cart over to a huge table holding bins of different varieties of grapes. Grapes were always a safe choice; they were easy to serve, kept well, and he didn't know of anyone who didn't like them. He bagged up a generous amount of the green and purple kinds, placed them in his cart, and was about to head for the cantaloupe bin when a sweet, pungent aroma halted him in his tracks.

Peaches! Dante's mouth watered; one of the workers had just opened a fresh crate, and their scent was filling the air, bringing thoughts of home along with it. He turned and made a beeline for the display. As he drew closer, he was a little disappointed to see they weren't Georgia grown, but brightened again when he saw the Colorado seal. Colorado grown peaches were almost as good as his home state's-not that he would ever admit that to his mother.

He picked up a peach and eyed it, noting with pleasure that it was in almost perfect condition, rosy and plump. An erotic image of Miaka biting into the succulent fruit and slowly licking the juice from her lips rose in his mind, and he instantly decided that he'd buy a dozen. Grinning wickedly, he bagged up his loot and then headed back to the cantaloupes. They were piled high, and obviously fresh. He tested a melon for ripeness, discarded it, and then reached out for another. As he picked it up, a grey-haired top knot and a pair of droopy lidded, beady eyes were revealed.

Dante choked on an indrawn breath and took a involuntary step back, almost dropping the melon he held in the process. "What the-"

An unforgettable cackle filled his ears, and he stared in stunned surprise at the diminutive old lady now walking around the pile of produce to confront him.

"It seems we meet again, Officer Dante Tager."

"What are you doing here, Grandma?" The question sounded rude, but he couldn't help it; seeing that prune-like face gave him the willies. "I mean, at this late hour." He amended quickly.

"Shopping, the same as you." She retorted. "I like to avoid the daytime crowds; for some reason, people have a tendency to step on me."

She eyed him as if daring him to laugh, but Dante wasn't in a laughing mood.

"Would ya like some help?" Though he made the offer reluctantly, it was sincere. She looked fragile, and very old, and fragile old ladies deserved courtesy. "You can put your stuff in my cart, an' I'll get things off the shelves for ya, if ya want."

The wrinkled face twisted into what he supposed was an approving smile. "Thank you, I'd appreciate that. My needs are few, just a couple things from the deli." She pointed at a cantaloupe. "And if you're intending to buy one of these, that's the one you want."

She seemed so certain that Dante automatically put down the melon he was holding and picked up the one she had indicated. "Thanks."

"You are welcome."

They moved off together in the direction of the deli.

"So, considerin' we're shopping together, how about givin' me your name? I can't keep callin' ya Grandma all th' time," Dante said, as they approached a refrigerated unit containing snack trays, salads and pre-made lunches. He reached for an oblong, cellophane wrapped package, and offered it to the old woman with an innocent smile. "Sandwich?"

His companion frowned at him for a moment, then abruptly relaxed her facial muscles. "No thank you. I don't care for those."

"Well I do." Dante said, as he added the smoked turkey and cheese sub to his cart. "So how about it, Grandma? What's your name?"

"I have been known by many names, but you may address me as Taiitsukun."

"Is that your first name, or your surname?"

"Yes."

He glared at her in exasperation. "What do ya mean, 'yes'! It can't be both!"

The hag smirked. "It _is_ both- and could you please get that package of stir-fry vegetables and a bottle of duck sauce for me?"

She pointed at the highest shelf, which was obviously out of her reach.

Dante rolled his eyes at the change of subject, but did as she asked.

"Have it your way!" He grumbled. "At least it's a name."

* * *

Several minutes later Dante finished his shopping by adding eggs, juice, milk, vegetables, and tuna-flavored kitty munchies to his cart, plus a wide variety of snack items, several of which came from the specialty food section. He'd eaten Yan Yan and Pocky at Craig's plenty of times and liked them. He figured Miaka might appreciate a treat from her homeland as well.

"Things must be going very well with you and Miaka Yuuki," Taiitsukun observed, while he put the containers in the cart.

Dante gave a start. The small talk between him and the old lady had been superficial up until this point, and he had been content to leave it that way. "Why do ya say that?"

"You're buying good, healthy food as well as some of her favorite snacks." Was the snappy reply. "You're obviously planning to have her over to your place for an extended stay, and she's accepted. This means things are going well."

Dante glanced down at the carton of Pocky in his hand, and then shrugged. "Yeah, okay. So you can read a shopping cart." His gaze shifted from his groceries to Taiitsukun and narrowed. "Ya know, if you're gonna keep makin' these personal observations about me, I think I have th' right to ask who you are and how you know Miaka!"

"We met when she was fifteen, and a visitor to my country." Taiitsukun replied promptly. "You could say that I had the role of her teacher while she was there." She paused, waiting for another question.

Dante's mouth was hanging open in surprise.

"She's come a very long way since then." The old woman continued in brisk tones, when he continued to stare at her. "I was actually quite pleased to see her with you today. Despite a wonderful start to their courtship, it turns out that Taka is not right for her. He's talented, accomplished and a very good man, but he's forgotten his first duty is to her."

"He's not always a very good man." Dante muttered with resentment. "Trust me, I know."

"Do you?" Taiitsukun challenged, giving him a look that made him want to back up a step.

He thought he did. But for some reason, now he wasn't so sure. "Uh...well...it's kind of complicated..."

"I think not!" She said sternly. "Do not let your personal animosity and jealousy lead you to making false judgements! Taka is a good man! It's _vital _that you don't jump to conclusions about him- if you do, Miaka could end up being badly hurt!"

A chill went down Dante's spine. "What do ya mean? Is she in some kind of trouble?"

"Not yet." The old lady replied cryptically. "Now that _you're_ in the picture, chances are much better that she will be fine. But she's going to need both you and Taka at her side to serve and protect her in times to come."

Dante was getting angry, and the increased volume of his voice showed it. "What th' hell does that mean? Are you suggestin' there could be some kind of freaky ménage a trois goin' on here? Well forget that! Once I make Miaka mine, I won't be sharin' her with-"

"It's not that!" Taiitsukun snapped. "Honestly, you're just like Tasuki after all! Losing your temper, mind in the gutter, shooting your mouth off without knowing any of the facts-"

The name electrified Dante, and he interrupted. "Tasuki! You _know_ Tasuki?"

For the first time, Taiitsukun's fixed stare seemed to waver. "Yes, I knew him. Quite well, in fact."

"Knew?"

The old woman hesitated, appearing to choose her words carefully. "The Tasuki that _I_ knew… is gone."

Well, that settled that, Dante thought. Strange how the news made him feel sad and edgy, rather than relieved.

"Did…Miaka care about him a lot?" He blurted, unable to stop himself from asking.

Beady eyes regarded him with disconcerting shrewdness. "She loved him. Are you bothered by that?"

Dante turned away, feigning interest in a shelf laden with Japanese food products. "If the guy's dead, then there's no reason for me to be jealous of him, is there?" _I can't believe I just answered that question! Just who th' hell does she think she is, anyway, to butt into our business like this? She's just a dotty old coot, and I think it's high time I got my ass outta here!_

Apparently, Taiitsukun was of like mind.

"I've said enough for one day." She announced, while flipping the ends of her shawl over her slight shoulders. "Let's go to the check out."

**To be continued!**

**Reviewers of this chapter will have their choice of a Taiitsukun approved cantaloupe or a slice of Ma Tager's Peach Pie!**


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**_Leather and Lace_**

**_By Maidens of Konan_**

_Disclaimer: Leather and Lace is a not-for-profit fan work. The Fushigi Yuugi story and its characters belong to Yuu Watase and her various media distributors throughout the world. __Characterizations, plot, prose, dialogue and everything else not created by Watase-sama are the intellectual property of Maidens of Konan. Said property should not be copied, borrowed or used in another story without written permission; failure to do so will result in offender being squashed flat as a pancake by Namame, the Stone Seishi of Genbu. _

_Author's note: A warm, heartfelt thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this fic during its long hiatus. I really hope you will enjoy this newest chapter. Hugs, KittyLynne_

**Chapter Fourteen**

It took Dante under ten minutes to drive home from the supermarket, helped in part by the fact that at this late hour there was virtually no side street traffic to trip the thoroughfare's stop lights from green to red.

"Damn." He muttered, after turning the corner onto his street and noticing his elderly neighbor's living room light was still burning. Most 'sundowners' went to bed early and got up before dawn, but not Berta, the poster granny for night owls and early birds combined.

Dimming his headlights, he let up on the accelerator and crept down the street at a snail's pace to his driveway, making sure not to gun the SUV's engine as he pulled up the slope and pressed the switch to open the garage door. As soon as he had entered the structure, he quickly pressed it again; while the door rolled shut behind him, he switched off the ignition, disconnected his seat belt and stayed put, hoping that he'd been quiet enough to escape detection and that this was the rare night that she'd fallen asleep in front of the TV.

If she hadn't and got wind of his return home, he'd soon know-she'd become adept at pinpointing the time it would take him to get out of the car and inside before she'd call him and ask for help on some sham pretext. If she were really spooked, not answering the phone wouldn't work; she'd simply march over in housedress and slippers to bang on his door. Somehow, despite his resolution to say no, he'd get roped into coming over for a glass of Ovaltine served with a plate of home made snickerdoodles while being plied with gossip about their neighbors, the listing of the dubious virtues of her thrice-divorced granddaughter and dropped less than subtle hints about him needing a woman in his life.

It had been a lot easier to keep the old lady at bay when she thought Sandy was in the picture. But time had worked against him, and when Sandy's extended absence finally made it obvious that the relationship was history, Berta had been right back at it.

It would have been easier to tell her to leave him alone and mind her own beeswax, but he'd opted to avoid the subject and keep her guessing about his private life rather than cut her off. He didn't mind listening to her or talking about other subjects. Her observations could be downright entertaining, and those cookies were damn good.

But there was no way he would let himself get suckered in tonight. He'd changed her front porch light to a motion detecting security one, had fixed the loose board in her fence, had made sure she had dead bolts that were properly installed. Now that he thought of it, he really should tell her to loosen her purse strings and spring for a cell phone. It was a safety issue, and most older folks of his acquaintence that lived alone had one, or some other kind of emergency summoning device with them at all times as a precaution.

Even Taiitsukun had one, although he had to say he really couldn't picture her texting the Chinese version of an SOS, or pushing a call button and yelling, 'Help! I've fallen and I can't get up!'

Something that sounded close to a giggle left his throat and gave him pause. L/aughing like that meant it was definitely time to call it a night. With the roller coaster he'd been on this evening, it would be safer to wait until he was back on an even keel before trying to think things through.

He could hear the phone in his kitchen ringing. Most likely Berta, checking to see if he were playing possum. That meant he needed to stay put for at least five minutes longer. And as long as he was just sitting here...

It was certain Taiitsukun had valuable insights and understanding to give about a part of Miaka's life in which Sukinami had been the focal point. But what interested him even more is that part of her life had also included Tasuki. This might be his only chance to gain a reasonably objective perspective on the man that had made such a deep impression with Miaka. If obtaining it meant spending more time with an eccentric old lady whose whims and behavior bordered on stalker-like creepiness, fine, it would be worth the aggravation.

Maybe.

Or maybe not.

Dante sank back against his seat with a sigh.

Neither of them had much else to say after the old lady had all but confirmed that Tasuki had gone to meet his maker. They'd gone through the check out in silence, save for polite replies to the cashier's cheerful small talk. They'd chatted for a bit while they'd waited for the taxi she had called for on her odd-looking cell phone, but the conversation was stilted and uninteresting.

When the cab arrived, he had lingered to help load her bags into the car, using courtesy as a pretext to catch her address when she gave it to the driver. After this latest encounter he badly wanted to find out where she was staying, and something told him that it wouldn't do him any good to ask her directly. He should have known that the wily old hag would thwart his plan by climbing into the cab's back seat without a word of instruction to the driver.

He had hovered, pinning his hopes on the cabbie asking for the address while within earshot, but the man had simply shut her door and went to climb behind the wheel. Inexplicably stung by what seemed to be a rejection, he'd turned back to the cart that held his groceries with the intention of high tailing it out of there.

There was the electric whine of a lowering cab window and the clearing of a throat. "Young man, would you hold on for a moment?"

The underlying note of contrition in her crackly voice hadn't moved him. In a burst of pique, he had grabbed hold of the cart's handle and shoved it forward, only to find that the wheel had somehow gotten wedged in a pothole.

"Please, I have something of importance to say!"

He ignored the summons. One mighty wrench had freed the cart and he'd started to walk away at a good clip, hoping that the loud rattling of wheels on the pock marked asphalt would drown out any further conversation.

"DANTE PROMETHEUS TAGER! I HAVE ASKED YOU TO WAIT!"

The command had thundered through the night, hitting him with the impact of a gale force wind. But it was the use of his cringe-worthy middle name - the pretentious, weird-ass moniker that had gotten him into fights when he was young and that he'd kept a secret since graduating high school - that had stopped him dead in his tracks.

Very reluctantly, he'd turned himself and his cart around and walked back to the taxi, glaring at the old woman who had made him do it the entire way.

Taiitsukun's beady eyes had fixed upon him with disconcerting intensity as he approached. He had maintained eye contact, undeterred by her critical stare.

"I regret having to shout, because it could have been avoided. Why didn't you stop the first time I called for you?"

The imperiousness in her tone had set his teeth on edge. He had wanted to give her what-for, could feel the words burning on his tongue, but after hearing _that_ voice coming out of such a small body, he hadn't been keen to cross her again. Discretion was the better part of valor at times, or so he'd been told.

"Because I've got perishable groceries to deal with." He said, doing his best to keep his resentment in check. "And I have to get up early for work."

"Then I won't keep you any longer than it takes to thank you for your help." Taiitsukun had said, surprising him yet again. "You've been very kind to an old woman, and have given invaluable assistance to a stranger in your country. It speaks highly of you as a person."

Though he'd still been miffed, he could admit the old lady's praise had a positive impact on him. He was absolutely sure it was something she didn't dish out very often, which meant it was worth more when earned. As for the yelling and bossiness, well, she was definitely old school, and he supposed he could cut her some slack. Miaka had forgiven him for _his_ display of cultural insensitivity, so he could find it in his heart to forgive her old mentor for her display of arrogance.

Remembering his apology to Miaka had given him an idea, and he had bowed respectfully to Taiitsukun while wishing her good health, good fortune and a safe trip back to her homeland.

She'd looked pleased, and surprisingly, this had made him feel better. As badly as the woman got on his nerves, seeing that warped but clearly approving smile of hers really had made him glad he hadn't left her with a bad impression. After all, she was about to drive off into the night, never to be seen or heard by him again, right?

"I appreciate your courtesy, but this isn't goodbye!" His tormentor had declared, giving a dried-peas-rattling-in-a-can chortle at what had had to be his very stunned expression. "Did you think I could be dismissed as easily as that? You should know that our business is far from finished, Fang Boy!"

There were several cop-style comebacks he could have used, and even more questions that he should have been asking- starting with where the hell she'd gotten all of her information on him- but his temper had gotten in the way of his wits. "Listen Granny, you don't know me well enough for nicknames!"

At that, Taiitsukun had put on a stern expression, but there had been a glint in her eyes that made him suspect she was secretly still laughing at him. "Of course, you're quite right. I will be sure to refer to you by a proper name from now on."

"Thanks." He had said, not entirely mollified. "I'd appreciate that."

The basset hound lines around her mouth had deepened with her smile. "You are very welcome, Kou Shun'u. I will, as you Americans say, 'catch you later'!"

He'd had no idea what she was talking about. What did Kou whatsis have to do with _his_ given name? Was it even a name? Or the Chinese translation of Dante? He had every intention of asking.

Instead, he had found himself gaping like a fool as the old lady's infuriating smirk disappeared behind tinted window glass.

While the taxi had pulled away he had to check the wild impulse to chase after it. He was fast enough for a residential speed chase, but he had perishables that needed attention, and getting them into his fridge took precedence over chasing down Old Lady Crackpot in a cab in the middle of the night...

* * *

The security light on the garage door opener going out jolted Dante back to the present. A wry smile curved his mouth as he contemplated the absence of light.

He'd been feeling totally in the dark about a lot of things lately.

But not for long, he quickly assured himself_. _He had every intention of getting to the heart of the old lady's reasons for being here_, _why she kept turning up to pester him about Miaka,and why, after all of that, she hadn't yet contacted the woman herself.

_Miaka should be able to figure out what her deal is. And even if she can't, I'm sure she'd want to know her old teacher is in town for a visit._

With that settled, it was time for him to get a move on_. He_ clambered out of the SUV, taking care to click the door shut rather than let it slam, then collected his groceries by trunk light. Closing it gently, he felt his way along the wall and through the darkness to the door that opened into his mudroom. He walked straight through into the kitchen, his path now illuminated by a couple of plug-in night-lights.

Once in the kitchen, he dumped the contents of the bags on the counter, opened the fridge, and began putting the foodstuffs away by the glow of the small lights. When the groceries had been taken care of, he allowed himself a peek through the window to the house next door. Ther lights were out, now, which meant Berta was definitely down for the night. Since the coast was clear, maybe he'd stay up for a little while longer, have a glass of wine and listen to music. State-of-the-art surround sound and the smooth buzz of fine alcohol would help dispell the disquieting notions Taiits-kun had put in his brain.

Turning to the fridge, he snagged the half empty bottle of pinot noir that he had opened for the meal Miaka had prepared, then shut the door with a bump of his hip. The dishwasher produced a clean but slightly spotty wine glass from the top rack. He filled it, set it down, and then drained the swallow that was left in the bottle. The recycling bin was a few steps away in the mudroom, but he couldn't bring himself to throw away what he'd shared with Miaka. With a small smile, he set the bottle in the sink. Later, he'd rinse it out and find a special candle for it.

He was on his way to the living room with his glass when a glance at his answering machine stopped him once more. The red light was blinking like an aircraft beacon in the semi-darkened room, indicating three messages had been left. For a moment he was tempted to ignore them, his desire for respite battling with a strong sense of responsibility. As was usually the case, responsibility won. He meandered over to the machine and pressed the play button.

The first message was from his mother, who told him in a cheerful voice that she was calling to say hello to her favorite son, and that he should call her back when it was convenient.

_I'm your only son, Ma! _Dante thought, smiling at the joke they'd shared ever since he could remember. She always made light of her reason for calling, but he was fully prepared for a gentle grilling when he returned the call. The woman had a sixth sense when something major was happening in his life, a talent that had been damned inconvenient when he'd been a teenager, but which he now accepted and even valued.

The second message was from Craig; after offering a list of bawdy guesses as to why Dante wouldn't be answering his home phone at ten thirty on a work night and then a good natured burn about Dante not giving the lowdown about the previous night with Miaka, his best friend had wished him a pleasant evening of debauchery and hung up.

"Moron." Dante snorted in amusement. "Gotta get your own woman if ya want details."

The time and date of the last message indicated that it had been left when he was sitting out in the garage. Sipping his wine, he waited for Berta's strident tones, then came close to choking a moment later when a sweet, young voice addressed the silence.

"Hello Dante, this is Miaka calling!"

He was back on the roller coaster. Incredibly psyched that she'd call so soon. Incredibly bummed he hadn't thought to give her his cell number.

Wait a minute. Why would she call? Was there trouble?

" Um...I hope that this doesn't wake you. And please don't be concerned, Mizu and I are fine! Um… a-actually, I was calling to listen to your voice on your answering message. I thought it would help me feel closer to you. Which is silly, I know..."

Not any sillier than knowing that this was a message he wouldn't ever be deleting, even if hearing her voice only increased the ache of not having her near.

"...but I was feeling sad and it helped. I'm missing you so much. I confess that I really, really wish that tonight hadn't ended with you having to go home."

Dante compressed his lips, feeling his body tighten with emotion_. Me too, sweetheart_. _Me too_.

"I shouldn't be saying things like that to you after everything we discussed tonight about keeping control of ourselves. But even if it's too fast and too soon, the more I'm around you, the more I'm certain of how I feel about you, Dante-kun. I realized it when you left, but I think I knew all along." She drew in a breath. "I know that...that I..."

Her hesitancy stretched his patience to its limit.

"That you _what_?" He barked, not caring that he was half-shouting at a recording. "Just _say_ it, dammit!"

As if Miaka was listening to him, she continued. "Gomen nasai, I'm sorry! I'm not comfortable leaving these kinds of feelings in a message that can be overheard. And I'm not good at it...the tone says I'm running out of time for this call."

She made a noise that was something between a laugh, a sigh and a sob, and then finished in a torrent of words that sent his heart rate into overdrive.

"You told me that you can't claim the package until you're sure it doesn't belong to someone else. I want you to know that I've made up my mind that just as soon as I can talk to Taka, the package is yours."

And with that, the recording came to an end with a loud, jarring beep.

Dante spat out a curse and bolted for the machine, hitting the save button before the message was automatically erased.

Rewinding it, he listened to it again…and again…and again, convincing himself that he'd heard everything right the very first time.

After the fourth replay, he pushed stop and stood staring down at his motionless hand.

Conventional wisdom said that love at first sight was a myth. Though not quite cynical enough to denounce it outright, he had been one of those guys who scoffed and laughed and dismissed the notion as an impossible fantasy fueled by old stories, Disney concoctions, and authors that loved to cater to romance obsessed readers.

Well, the joke was on him. This was no fucking fairy tale, it was his life. The feelings he had, what had happened between Miaka and himself, defied skepticism, logic and any academic analysis. He was absolutely sure of how he felt, and just because it had happened freakishly fast didn't mean it- or he- was mistaken about what it was.

It was a fact that he'd fallen in love the moment Miaka rolled down that window and smiled at him. The process of getting to know her was merely a confirmation that his initial gut reaction to her was true and unwavering. He wanted everything she was, and everything that came along with being with her. And now that he knew she was feeling the same, he wanted to pick up the phone and spill his guts, or better yet, jump back in his vehicle and go see her in person.

But a glance at the clock on his microwave told him it was close to one thirty in the morning. Though his impulsive side was shouting at him to go get her, the saner part of him knew it wasn't a good idea to do this in the middle of the night, to go running to her without some kind of a plan for what he was going to say. He had a tendency to crack really bad jokes when he was at a loss for words, and sometimes that awkwardness worked to his advantage, but more often it didn't.

Blurting out the first thing that came to mind wasn't an option for making what could end up being the most important declaration of his life.

And there were still some issues to be dealt with before they could embark on a full fledged relationship. He hadn't told her about being a detective, or about meeting her Chinese mentor. What was he going to do with the information Taiits-kun had given him about Tasuki? How the hell was he supposed to impart the sad news of his lookalike's demise to Miaka, or explain how and why he'd been pumping the old lady for information about the guy in the first place?

And then there was another matter- Taka Sukinami. The man was going to be a factor in how things went. The investigation loomed like a cloud over a horizon of clear sailing, as did the possibility that Sukinami would decide to fight to get her back.

That fight would be a challenge, Dante thought, and probably not a fair one, given the circumstances. Having the man under investigation presented a clear advantage for him...which made it all the more ironic that he was now thinking of his rival as an unwitting victim of circumstances. It would be easier to remain biased, but his sense of fairness acknowledged the truth of what Taiitsukun had said about not jumping to conclusions. In the interest of justice, he needed to keep an open mind for himself and for for Miaka, who would be devastated to learn that someone she loved was suspected of being involved in the kind of machinations designed to bilk a community out of earnings, savings and pensions.

He'd do whatever he could for the guy to spare Miaka hurt and disappointment. If he did get back on the case, it would be with a renewed purpose of enlisting Sukinami's assistance in proving his innocence. Knowing the man had cared about Miaka enough to have potentially sacrificed his own life to save hers was a fact well worth considering in assessment of his character.

If Taka Sukinami had loved Miaka enough to risk everything he held most dear, he would love her enough to help put away the bad guys and to allow Miaka to pursue a future she deserved.

Laughter.

Happiness.

All out, no holds barred love.

He was the man to give Miaka that. He would tell her as soon as he could do it in a coherent manner in a place that was right for the occasion.

Okay. Now that he had a plan, it was time to get some sleep.

Yeah, right.

Dante downed the rest of his wine and set the glass in the sink. Then he headed straight for the living room, grabbing a throw pillow, a blanket and the TV remote before flinging himself down on the sofa.

There was no way in hell he was going to get a decent night's sleep, so some mindless wee hour channel flipping was the next best thing.

* * *

Day had just begun to break beyond the window in his den before Taka finally pushed himself away from his desk. He rubbed his burning eyes, and then massaged his aching neck with a hand.

He'd quickly saved the information on Miaka to the jump drive he'd been issued as an aid to working at home, but the rest of the entries proved resistant to being accessed, which made them impossible to copy or transfer. At that point, he'd decided to stay a little longer to try a couple of tricks he'd learned from one of his fraternity brothers, a computer science whiz who gone into anti virus programming. With what he'd remembered, he'd managed to open three more files. The names they'd contained kept him going at the others straight through the night, but his subsequent efforts had been stymied.

Reaching for a notepad, he jotted them down and then stared at them until the characters blurred before his tired eyes.

_Aogiri, __Suzumi _

_Hongo, Yui _

___Mikage, __Aya_

_Seno, __Alice _

_Yuuki, __Miaka _

All were female and Japanese. Two names were familiar to him from news stories about the scandal at Mikage International, a former technology and genetic research giant in the Japanese business world. One was an unknown. The other two were inextricable parts of his life.

Thornton had said it was a simple file transference error, that the data should have been purged as being under the category clients who were no longer clients or deceased. The man knew must have had been misinformed about the files' content. He knew Miaka, and the rest were very much alive far as he knew. After doing a search of his own, he'd determined that none of them had ever been clients-the only one with any sort of a tie to Thornton was Miaka, and that was second hand.

It could be that the files had been routed to him because they were potential clients. But that wouldn't explain Miaka's dossier. She hadn't made enough money at the Phoenix Grill to be able to make worthwhile investments, and he doubted she ever would.

Not that it mattered. By the time they got married, he'd have enough put away in securities, bonds and retirement portfolios to cover any sort of catastrophe or emergency that might result in loss of an income. When it was time to retire, they'd be assured of living comfortably on generated interest and dividends.

Insuring the future was a financially secure one was his goal and his mission. Knowing he'd succeeded gave him peace of mind. But was that future going to be shared with Miaka? Would they be reaping the harvest of his labors as they grew old together? He wasn't as sure of that as he had been twenty-four hours ago.

Everything in him said that he shouldn't have left Miaka last night without a specific plan to sit down and talk about the problems she'd alluded to. He'd left her to help someone else, thinking that she'd wait for him to returnl. Was he wrong? Even his boss had questioned that decision, albeit jokingly.

Since he'd been hired at Thornton, he'd never called in sick, gone on vacation or even taken a personal day. He'd schedule medical and dental appointments on his lunch breaks to keep from getting backlogged, making the time up on Saturdays if the appointments went over an hour. Sure, having that single-minded devotion to his job had upped his salary and his status with Thornton, but how much would it end up costing him in the end?

Time was money, but it was at its most valuable when used for making good and happy memories with loved ones.

He'd totally lost sight of that in the last few months. No wonder Miaka had rejected him last night. He hadn't made any efforts to make time just to be with her,and yet he had expected her to be there for him. He'd made plans and cancelled them, ignored her phone calls when they weren't convenient to take, relegated her to sitting at home while he traveled. She deserved far better... and she'd get it, just as soon as he got back from his business trip as a proxy for Thornton.

Turning in his chair, Taka glanced up at the crystal and brass clock hanging on the wall beside him. In a little under two hours, the building would be unlocked and employees would start to arrive. Soon after that, some high level programmer would log onto his laptop and expunge all traces of the unwanted files from his database, as per Thornton's directive.

Once they were gone, pretending ignorance of their contents would provide a convenient and easy solution to his present dilemma. But even if no one else knew, it wouldn't be business as usual for him from now on. Not when one of those folders had contained personal information about Miaka, and he had no idea why it was there. _That_ wasn't something that was going to go away, and he didn't intend to shove it aside. Protecting Miaka came before everything else, and always would.

Hoping to gain inspiration, he scanned the room. None was forthcoming until his gaze finally alighted on the frame sitting on his desk, which held a picture of himself and Miaka standing arm in arm in front of his townhouse.

It was the perfect compromise. He'd phone in that he was using one of his work-from-home days that the company allotted to its account executives every year, but one of the perks he hadn't taken advantage of as of yet. He'd bring the laptop with him and work on accessing the rest of the folders without question.

In the worst case scenario that he couldn't get them opened himself, he'd call in a personal favor from his computer geek contact back in Japan, whose discretion could be relied upon in yielding some answers.

* * *

After stops in the locker room to change into his uniform and at the central desk to check for messages and pick up a newly minted nameplate, Dante made his way upstairs to the open office space that had been designated to the Investigations unit.

Dropping into the banged up chair that went with the equally battered but substantial steel desk to which he'd been assigned, he reached for a pencil and began filling in the log sheets and maintenance reports that had been issued to him. It was tedious work, and it wasn't long before he found his thoughts straying to smiling green eyes, silky auburn hair and the feel of a soft breast pressing into the palm of his hand…

His pencil snapping in two brought him back to reality. With a muttered oath, he threw it away and reached for a pen.

"Here, Tager. You look like you could use some starter fluid."

Dante glanced up to see a large Styrofoam cup being held in front of his face. Rising steam carried the aroma of strongly brewed java to his flaring nostrils as he accepted the offering. "Thanks man. You're a lifesaver."

Cody LaConte took a seat at the desk directly opposite him. "Sure. Can't have any of those street punks getting the drop on you."

Dante laughed. "What punks would those be? All I've come across are a few moving violations, some bump and go fender benders, and a group of elderly pedestrians who needed help to get across Academy."

"Best not to get complacent." LaConte advised mildly. "You'd be surprised at what can cross your path on what started out as a routine day."

In an instant, Dante grew somber. He was aware that LaConte had been a street cop in Chicago, and had come close to losing his life in a lone shoot out with a bad guy that was very reminscent to what had happened to his own father. So much so, that he had avoided the subject whenever he was talking to the man.

"Sure." He said. "A boring day is a good day, right?"

"Roger that. And if it looks like things are going to be getting more exciting, you make sure to call for back up."

Dante kept his expressive impassive. Cody was being diplomatic, but was definitely calling him out on his attitude. And dammit, the man was right. A uniform was a beacon for crazies. Keeping your body intact was a lot easier if you were proactive and prepared for the worst. "Right. Backup. I got it."

"Good."

There was a silence before LaConte asked,

"So when do you get to come back to investigations?"

"Whenever the powers that be decide there's enough evidence to justify removing their lips from Thornton's corporate ass." Dante's smirk was sarcastic. "Probably not for a while."

LaConte chuckled. "You know I'm working on your case, right?"

"Not exactly mine anymore, but yeah." Dante said, feeling a sharp twinge of guilt. He'd hadn't given a thought to helping his replacement, he'd been too caught up in what he was feeling for Miaka and working out how he was going to explain his very personal interest in her to the rest of the team. "Was glad to hear they assigned to it to you. Knew you'll do a hell of a job."

"Thanks. If you have a couple of minutes, I'd like to pick your brain."

Dante took a swig of coffee before answering. "If it's about the case, I can't help you. The Captain made it clear that I'm banned in every capacity."

"With the amount of information you have, you could be considered a witness. Would asking a witness a couple of quick observational questions be considered out of bounds?"

In spite of his discomfort with the subject, Dante found himself smiling. "Gotta say that I like the way you think. And my answer is, it wouldn't be if it was Connery. But since it's his boss who's callin' the shots on this, that approach is not gonna pass inspection."

He tried to infuse the statement with discouraging finality, but LaConte wasn't deterred. "I'll be honest, Tager, I don't care if it does. It's a tough enough time keeping this one afloat with all the stonewalling going on, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let big business honchos dictate the terms of an investigation!"

Dante surveyed his co-worker with empathy and increased respect. He'd pretty much pegged Cody LaConte as sticking to the usual methods and the rules type of investigator, but apparently that impression wasn't accurate. "Okay. You got five minutes."

"Great!" The other man was looking more cheerful. "First question. I noticed in going through your reports that you were dealing with liasons and intermediaries at the company. Just to be clear, you never met or talked with Sukinami directly?"

"That's right. My attempts at communication all got deferred. Hope you're having better luck."

"Not really. That's been my experience so far. I'm a patient guy, but it's already getting old."

Dante grimaced. "Yeah, well, try having weeks of canceled appointments, unanswered calls and emails with excuses from people who specialize in givin' the run around. I got so damn fed up I went to the office building he works in, waved my badge around and point blank asked to see the guy. Instead, they trotted out some slick haired legal type to talk with me. Once they established I didn't have a warrant or a summons, I never made it past the lobby."

"You'd think they wouldn't have had a problem with you talking to him with counsel present."

"You'd think, but nope. And that stunt was what got me reassigned, so I wouldn't recommend it unless you get a warrant."

"Understood." LaConte said. "So, moving on. From what I've deduced in researching Sukinami's life, he's been an open book. There's not a whisper of trouble or scandal to be found since he got here, or from when he was living in Japan. His friends and fiercest competitors all describe him as smart, honest, classy, and a genuinely nice guy. If he's not acting as an intermediary for bid or interest rigging or any kind of misappropriation of funds, then why would they bother keep him hidden? If anything, he'd be the shining example that the company uses for P.R. to show it can be trusted, right?"

"Right." Dante said slowly. "You'd think that would be the case, but instead they're making him look shifty." The more he heard, the more he was reassessing the case and the man. Setting feelings of rivalry aside, he could say that Miaka had a good reason to hold him in high esteem, and if what LaConte was saying was also true, then Sukinami deserved to be given more benefit of the doubt. "You think it's possible he doesn't know anything about our wanting to talk to him?"

"That's what I've been thinking." LaConte said promptly. "He was promoted into corporate stripes at a young age, and it's my guess he's grateful and excited about the opportunies he's being given. By all accounts, he's well liked by his clients, anxious to impress and driven to succeed. If you look at the non compensated overtime he puts in, he's definitely willing to go the extra mile without being asked. He's worked hard for it, so he wouldn't think there's any ulterior motive in his rapid rise other than the fact that it's a reward for having proven he has what it takes to bring profit to the company. Those qualities don't make him a suspect, but they do make him the perfect blame magnet for the corporate big boys if think they're about to get caught."

"They're fattening him up for the kill while not takin' any chances that integrity and honesty would lead him to being a whistleblower."

"Right. I thought if I contact him while he's away from the keepers, I'd get a better indication if it's him avoiding us or if he's completely in the dark."

"Sounds like a win win. Even if he's got work buddies, he's kind of isolated in his personal life, isn't he? A casual and friendly approach on neutral territory could give the break ya need."

"Exactly my thought." LaConte said. "But he's not totally isolated. You probably know his girlfriend came over from Japan a few months after he got here."

Dante took a swallow of coffee. He'd known the subject would inevitably come up, but it was a struggle to keep his cool when his protective instincts were kicking in big time.

"A hometown honey." He observed, avoiding a direct answer. "Nice she was willin' to pull up roots for him." _And pretty damn lucky for me._

"Yes. Couldn't have been easy for her. It probably helps that she's fluent in english."

"I'm sure it does. Good on her for bein' prepared."

"Yes, and good for us too. She might be able to help."

_Not good._ Dante thought. _Gotta get that out of his head_. "Really? You thinkin' she knows something?"

To his relief, LaConte shook his head. "I'm sure she doesn't. From what I can tell, other than going to the company social functions, she's got zero knowledge regarding his day to day operations. But as his long time girlfriend, she's got influence, right? So approaching her to get him to talk to me could be worth a try, don't you think?"

Dante frowned. The idea had a lot of merit, he'd thought of it himself. But now... he was damned if he'd let anyone question Miaka but him. "I see your point, but don't do it until we know whether or not he's gotten his hands dirty. Do anything before, an' you're walkin' a fine line between legal questioning and harrassment."

"Good point." LaConte said, then looked wry. "And you know, it's just as well. The commotion over who'd be debriefing her would be enough to tip the scales to the wrong side of that line."

Dante eyes narrowed. "Whaddaya mean, commotion?"

The other man shrugged. "The singles in the ranks have seen recent surveillance stills of her. The overwhelming consensus was that she's a looker."

If only he'd seen those photos before he'd met her, Dante thought grimly. If he had, that would explain the feeling that he knew her. But he hadn't, so he'd have to be careful as to what he said now. Careful, because he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to recruit reinforcement in getting the message out to the crew who'd been ogling Miaka. "Oh yeah. I did hear something about that."

LaConte looked surprised. "You did?"

"Yeah. Word gets around."

"That was quick!" LaConte's brow furrowed. " Just found out myself, yesterday. I'm going to have a word with the instigator. Surveillance for personal enjoyment isn't acceptable."

"No need." Dante stated. "I already had a serious talk with Murray about his egregious error in judgement."

LaConte blinked, then nodded approvingly. "So what was the result?"

"Had him turn in the pics. Told him no more feedin' the horn dogs if he wanted to keep it out of his file. He apologized, and said he wouldn't make that mistake again."

The set of Dante's jaw and the look in his eyes had his colleague offering up silent thanks that he hadn't been on the receiving end of the fanged one's ire. "I'd say it's a safe bet that he won't be."

Dante gave him a small grin, then glanced at his watch. " Sorry, we gotta wrap it up. My shift's startin' in five and I still have to sign off on these babies."

LaConte immediately stood up and stuck out his hand. "Thanks for taking the time, I appreciate your input."

"No problem." Dante shook the offered hand, glad that he'd allowed the time, and with the resolve to talk to the man more than he had in the past. They had some things in common now, and his gut was telling him LaConte was the kind of guy he could trust to have his back. That feeling made him unbend enough to say, "If there's anything more I can do to help ya out, let me know."

Four minutes later, Dante had his forms printed out, signed, and sitting in his out basket. With a sigh of relief, he stood and tossed his empty coffee cup in the wastebasket. The caffeine had done its job; he felt rejuvenated and actually eager to get out on patrol. Being out on the road would make the time go by faster, and would give him a chance to think through what he was going to say to Miaka without having to worry about who was watching him think.

Cody LaConte looked up from his computer. "Be careful out there. Have a good one."

Dante give him a salute. "I intend to. Later, C.L.."

* * *

"Ready to go, Mia dear?"

As Hannah DeBerg pushed through the swinging doors to the kitchen, Miaka took the opportunity to peer into the dining room. The number of occupied tables had dwindled to less than ten, which was a solid indication that the lunch rush was over. Her station was clean and the garnishes were replenished. That meant she could go to lunch with Hannah, something that she'd been looking forward to all morning.

She smiled at the hostess, who beamed right back at her. "Almost. I just have to grab my bag."

Alan Thompson poked his head around the corner as she went back into the storage area that served as a coatroom. "Is this a private party, or may I join you ladies?"

Miaka hesitated. She wasn't sure if she was completely ready to trust the man who'd once seen her as a direct threat when it came to matters of the heart.

But was that fair? Once they'd gotten past the Kevin thing, Alan and she had had some really fun times together. Along with Hannah, he'd been there to keep her from getting lonely when Taka was away or too busy to see her, and to aid her in her efforts to become more fluent in her English. There was also no question that he had helped her out with McMasters today and yesterday, diverting the blond chef's attention and generally running interference so that she was left in peace with her thoughts and daydreams.

In considering that, saying no seemed very ungracious, yet she wanted to be sure. "I have something personal I want to discuss that I don't want everyone here to find out. Can you keep a secret?"

Alan's expression was solemn as he made an 'X' motion across his heart. "They won't hear anything from me. You can trust me, honey, I've got more secrets than anyone."

"Then you're welcome to join us." She said warmly.

After loading out take out containers from the salad bar and grabbing some drinks, they headed out the back door to the small enclosure built for employees' breaks. The fenced in area wasn't large, but it boasted a tree, a few flower filled barrels, and a couple of resin patio sets with red and white umbrellas.

Miaka was the first to seat herself and open up her container, only to find herself staring at it. Why had she taken so much food when she really wasn't hungry? Figuring out she was in love with Dante was one thing, but why had she made that idiotic phone call? Every time she thought of it, her stomach started to do flip-flops.

"All right, that does it. I think I can guess what you want to talk about." Alan said, as he sat down. "Dark circles under the eyes, a dreamy yet tormented expression, the astounding lack of an appetite-if I didn't know you still had Taka in tow, I'd say you've got it bad for that hunky police officer."

Hannah plunked down next to him. "Shut up, Alan. She'll tell us when she's ready."

"It's okay, Han-chan." Miaka sighed. "Taka came over last night after work to spend some time with me, but I turned his offer of a date down to go out to eat with Dante, who also showed up at my door."

Her two friends exchanged open mouthed, wide eyed glances, then turned back to her.

"Wow." Hannah said. "Not good."

"Oh, to have been a tiny fly on the wall!" Alan lamented.

"Nothing like that happened. They didn't meet." Miaka said.

"Pity." Alan observed. "The thought of having all that machismo in one place just blows me away."

"Dante knows about Taka?" Hannah asked, after swatting Alan.

"Yes, I told him I had a boyfriend when we met."

"And he still asked you out?" Hannah frowned. "I know I have no room to talk, but I'm kind of disappointed he disregarded your relationship-"

"He didn't!" Miaka leapt to his defense."He asked me straight out about how serious things were with Taka, and I said that we weren't engaged and things weren't really going well. He said that if I would be interested in getting to know him, he was willing to take a chance that I'd choose him. But if I had said I was totally committed to Taka, I'm sure he wouldn't have taken it any further."

Hannah brightened. "Oh, I'm glad. He is a true- "

Alan interrupted. "Yes, yes, parameters were set, he's an officer and a gentleman. Can we get back to the almost confrontation? Nothing happened, you said?"

Miaka nodded. "Dante came to the door while Taka was taking a shower. We were standing there, saying hello, and he asked if I had plans. Before I could say anything, Taka yelled for some towels, and Dante heard him. And given it was obvious I'd just gotten done taking a shower myself ..."

Hannah winced. "Oh Lordy."

"It looked bad." Miaka acknowledged ruefully. "I was so upset. I explained that I hadn't known Taka was going to show up, but I wouldn't blame Dante if he'd think I was playing with them both and dumped me. But he believed me. He comforted me, and said that he knew things were going to be awkward until I decided, and was fine with it. And he apologized for not calling first."

"What a guy." Hannah marveled, as Alan nodded.

"He said he was going to ask me out to dinner, but we could go out another time. I told him that no, I was going to go back inside and tell Taka I had other plans for the evening. It sounds so underhanded, but I asked him to wait in his car. I thought it was best to tell Taka about him on my own, and I was all set to do it. But then Taka got an emergency call from his boss and had to leave right away, so I didn't get a chance to tell him after all."

Though her expression was solemn, Hannah's brown eyes sparkled. "But you still went out with Dante?"

"Hai! I mean, yes! We went to the Sonic, because I told Dante I'd never been to an American drive-in."

"Am I hearing this right?" Alan gasped. "The man actually took you someplace that you said _you'd_ enjoy?"

Miaka made a face at her friend's pointed comment. "He did. And after we ate, we went to the park so we could walk and talk and watch the sun set over the mountains."

"Nice, _very_ nice." Hannah leaned forward. "Did you have fun?"

Green eyes shone with remembered pleasure. "Yes. So much."

"And there wasn't any shop talk, text messages or phone calls?"

"None. I don't think he even had a cel phone with him."

"You were his focus for the entire date?"

"Yes. Completely."

The hostess' smile was broad. "And how about the kissing?"

"Hannah...please..."

"Too late to be shy about it, missy! Pretty good, is he?"

Miaka looked at her salad, rearranging it with her plastic fork as an excuse to hide her blushing face. "Much better than good." She admitted, unaware of the soft smile that accompanied the words. "Tender... passionate...and totally amazing."

Hannah sucked in a breath. "Oh _sweetie._"

Alan's smile was genuine even if his tone held envy. "Lucky you. Finding a lover that's both hot and considerate is like finding gold."

Miaka looked up quickly at hearing the word 'lover'. "Oh! Don't misunderstand! We didn't...I mean, things haven't gone beyond a little making out." She clenched her fist. "It easily could have, but Dante said he wouldn't go any further unless he's sure he's the only one I'm going to be with. "

"An ultimatum. Interesting." Hannah murmured. "Was he angry?"

"No, not at all. He...he said he wanted to, but only when it was right. And it can't be right when Taka and I haven't talked about how I feel. "

"Assurance that he's a man of integrity and restraint." Alan observed with a nod of approval. "I'm impressed."

"I am too." Hannah agreed. "That's a good man you have there."

Miaka didn't think her face could get any hotter. "I know. He didn't pressure me, he gave me as much time as I need to think about it."

"So then what happened?" Alan asked.

"It was getting really cold out, so we decided to go back to my place for coffee. "

Alan pointed at her. "Ah-ha, now there's the _real_ litmus test! How did Claws of Fury react to your date?"

Miaka laughed. "Dante thinks Mizu is awesome, and talks to him. Mizu allows Dante to pet him. And Dante wants to bring him on our next date."

"He has tamed the devil cat." Alan breathed, after a stunned silence. "He's definitely something special."

"So what happened after that?" Hannah prompted.

"I prepared a snack, we talked and listened to music for awhile, and then he kissed me good night and went home."

"So let me see if I've got everything straight." Alan said. "You meet this totally hot cop with six pack abs who makes you want to jump him and scream out his name the minute you lay eyes on him. In the two days since you've met, the guy procedes to prove himself to be a chivalrous, supremely caring, honorable individual who's made you happier than I've ever seen you since you got here. He's fun and considerate of your feelings and an amazing kisser. He doesn't want to take advantage of you. He's willing to wait while you make up your mind. And on top of all that your man-hating, skin shredding cat likes him." He shook his head. "Help me out here, Yuuki, because I'm failing to understand what's holding you back."

Hannah gave him her best 'don't be an idiot' look. "She and Taka have been a couple since they were teenagers. You don't just throw that away on a whim, or because things are getting stale." She turned to look at Miaka. "But it's not a whim or boredom, is it? You've been thinking about ending things with Taka even before you met Dante."

"Yes...but..." Miaka hesitated. "I can't imagine my life without Taka. He'll always be important to me. We've hung on through times that were as bad as you can imagine. To walk away from him now, after everything..." She hung her head. "I don't want to hurt him. He's made great sacrifices, and I owe him so much -"

"You've made sacrifices as well, like leaving your career and the people you loved in Japan to be with him!" Hannah broke in."Feeling that you owe it to someone to marry them isn't a good foundation for a marriage. Fulfilling an obligation won't bring the happiness you deserve." Leaning over, she put her right hand over her friend's, stilling its aimless movements. "If I thought it was just a physical attraction, I'd be the first to tell you to end things with Dante. But that's not what I'm hearing or seeing. There's a connection between you that goes as deep as anything I've seen with you and Taka."

Miaka gazed at her. "Maybe I should have stayed home. Do you think it was a mistake for me to come here?"

"Absolutely not!" Hannah stated. "I think it was essential that you did! You needed a fresh perspective, one that could open your eyes and then empower you to enact a change that you might not otherwise have made."

"But how do I know it's the right change?"

Hannah smiled. "There aren't any guarantees. But I'm a firm believer in what my mother always used to tell me- 'above all else, listen to what your heart says. It never lies.'"

"Amen to that." Alan said.

"I listened! And I blew it!" Miaka blurted, looking miserable. "I called Dante and left a message on his machine right after he left my apartment. I told myself I just wanted to hear his voice, but I ended up confessing my feelings for him! Then I laid awake, worrying and waiting for a return call that never came! I think it was too much, too soon! I think I chased him away!"

"Was it pretty late at night when he left you?"

"Close to midnight, yes. Yet I hoped when he got home and listened to the message he'd call me-"

"I think you're worrying for nothing. Dante is a considerate person, especially when it comes to your feelings." Hannah interrupted. "Think about it, Mia! He knew you had to work today, and he didn't want to wake you up if you were asleep. He's a cop, he could even have been called into work. Or maybe..." she winked, "he wanted to respond to you in person when he could give you physical proof of his feelings along with the words."

"I…I suppose…"

"I'll say it again, Miaka Yuuki- that man is all yours! The only question is if _you're _willing to take a risk and do what needs to be done so that the two of you can be happy together!"

Miaka stared at her friend while silently acknowledging the truth. The first risk had already been taken with a late night confession-there was nothing to be lost by making another. Her heart ached for what that meant for Taka, and yet also soared with the joyful certainty of saying what she truly wanted.

"I'll do whatever I have to do to be with Dante."

The older woman's smile stretched from ear to ear. "Now that we've got that settled, what's next?"

"I need to talk to Taka, but he's going to be out of town on a really important business trip until next week. And before you suggest it," Miaka added as her friends opened their mouths, "I'm not going to do it over the phone or in an email or text message. He deserves a personal explanation."

"You're a lot kinder than I would be," Alan remarked, "considering he's barely had time for you since you moved to this country."

"So what are you going to do in the meantime?" Hannah asked, after sending Alan a quelling glance. "What about Dante?"

"He knew Taka and I had previous plans for the weekend. But then Taka called and cancelled them while Dante was still at my place last night."

Hannah's eyes went wide. "Ooh. Again, that must have been awkward."

"Just a little." Miaka said wryly. "It helped that I could speak in Japanese. Anyway, I was mostly relieved...and yet disappointed because I really wanted to see more of the area. Dante got that much out of me. Then he invited Mizu and me to stay at his house for the weekend so he could take me to see the attractions I haven't seen yet-"

She stopped and sighed in exasperation as Alan and Hannah exchanged knowing looks. "You two are such perverts! Nothing like that will be happening! He has a guest room...and we have an agreement, remember? Dante says we can handle it like mature adults, and I think so too. Controlling ourselves is a small price to pay for getting the chance to spend major time together."

"A noble ambition." Alan remarked.

The hostess snorted. "And a total crock! From the vibes I was getting from that man yesterday, getting you anywhere near to his bedroom will be the definition of spontaneous combustion!"

Though she was thoroughly embarrassed, Miaka couldn't help giggling.

"Dante, eh?" Alan said, looking thoughtful. "An interesting name. And very apt, from what I've seen and heard of him so far." Golden eyes took on a mischievous glint. "Passion begets inspiration! I'll create a fiery new illusion in honor of you two for my act."

This was news to Hannah. "And what kind of act would that be?"

"Alan is a professional magician!" Miaka happily informed her before Alan could answer. "He doesn't make a big deal about it, but he's got a permanent weekend job at Phantasma Dance Club and Cabaret! He's done several shows, and every one tops the next!"

"How exciting!" Hannah exclaimed. "I didn't know, but I honestly can't say I'm surprised, Alan. I've always thought you had a flair for showmanship- your dining room exhibitions are terrific, even better than McMasters!'"

"Thank you." Alan said modestly, after swallowing his last bite of salad. "I'm not in it for the money or anything- I just like to entertain people and I enjoy mastering new techniques."

"You have to tell us when you perform so Miaka and I can come see you!" Hannah enthused.

Alan smiled. "I'll do better. I'll get you complimentary tickets." He turned to Miaka. "I'll get a ticket for Dante too, if you'd think he'd be interested in seeing a show."

"I'd say that's a safe bet if Mia's involved." Hannah put in slyly.

"Hannah-chan!"

"Ah, but of course!" Alan exclaimed, twirling an imaginary mustache as he leered at the two giggling women. "Yes...yes...I can picture it now! Miaka as my hapless- er, esteemed assistant in my latest concotion of magical fantasy! A damsel in distress, an innocent, yet ravishing temptress starring in a scene so fraught with peril that our highly principled Dante won't be able to resist coming to her rescue!"

"Sounds like the perfect scheme to me!" Miaka said, feeling her spirits being lifted to giddier heights.

Admitting that she'd fallen in love with Dante Tager was kind of terrifying, but allowing herself to feel it was glorious.

* * *

It was close to two o' clock before Dante headed for Brew You for a late lunch break.

The morning had flown by. Traffic violations, fender benders and a couple of emergency calls had kept him plenty busy. He'd managed to grab some time to call Miaka, but it was after nine and she hadn't answered, probably because she had gone to work. To add to his frustration, his beeper had gone off just when he'd started to leave a message, and he'd ended up saying far less than what he'd wanted to say. Still, if nothing else she'd know he was thinking of her when she heard it, and he'd make sure to do much better when he saw her in person.

Whistling a nameless tune, he pulled into a parking space right up next to the coffeehouse. This time of day was what Craig referred to as 'down time'; after the lunch crowd, and before people got off of work. Indeed, the only sign of activity that Dante could see was that of the jeans and t-shirt clad, blue haired young woman who was occupied with washing the glass paneled front door.

_With that shade of hair, she's gotta be in a band. _He thought, before spotting the UCCS logo on the back of her shirt. _And she's_ _a co-ed_. _Craig must have hired a part timer to help out_.

He climbed out of the car and locked it up, after first making sure he had his keys in his hand. Pocketing them, he then approached the window washer, who was swabbing the glass with an impressive amount of energy. He paused, intending to wait, but she startled him by quickly stopping and turning to him, squeegee still in hand.

She was very short; the top of her head didn't even reach his shoulder. If it weren't for her punk-styled blue hair and womanly curves, he'd have thought her a child.

Lavender irises set in a surprisingly innocent looking face sparkled as they regarded him.

Dante stared_. Pretty unusual hair and eye colors. And they look real_. As soon as the thought struck him, he shrugged it off. After all, natural looking hair dyes came in all colors these days, and exotic colored contacts were readily available.

"Good afternoon, and welcome to Brew You!" The young woman trilled, sending droplets of moisture flying as she gestured wildly. "Please go right in!"

Dante's lips twitched at the young woman's sprightly enthusiasm. _Whoo boy,_ C_raig's got himself a live one here! _"Afternoon, miss… an' thanks." He added, as she stepped aside and opened the door with a flourish.

"You're very, _very_ welcome!" She chirped, beaming at him. "Please enjoy yourself!"

Touching a finger to his hat in response, Dante entered the coffeehouse. It wasn't a surprise to him to find that no one was behind the counter; considering the lack of customers, Craig was most likely out back doing inventory or taking a break in the john.

He walked up to the register, intending to ring the bell put there for service. Before he could, a familiar face with a crown of blue hair suddenly popped up from beneath the counter. Lavender eyes smiled at him as he gave a violent start.

Dante gaped at the cheerful young woman as she stood up, tugged on the bottom of her UCCS t-shirt and said in a girlish voice,

"Good afternoon, Officer! Welcome to Brew You! I'll be very glad to take your order if you're ready!"

"Wait a sec! Weren't you just outside washin' the windows?" He asked, perplexed.

The girl started to answer, but a gruff male voice interrupted her.

"Yo Dante! About time ya showed up!"

A relaxed-looking Craig Bennett emerged from the kitchen. Dante performed their ritual handshake with less than his usual flair until an epiphany struck him.

"Twins!" He exclaimed. "They're twins, right?"

"Yep!" Craig laughed. "They just started today. Great references, so I hired 'em on the spot." He eyed his friend's slicked back hair. "Nice comb back, by the way."

"Thanks." Dante said, then addressed the smiling girl. "Sorry about the mix up, Miss. It won't happen again, now I know you've got a sister. "

"That's perfectly okay!" She piped. "I'm Ami with an 'i', and my sister is Sue! It would be my honor to take your order, sir, considering all you do to keep our city safe!"

With anyone else he would have suspected sarcasm, but this girl really meant it, Dante could tell. Abundant enthusiasm must run in the family, he thought in bemusement, as he thanked her and placed an order for a depth charge and a raspberry scone.

"Is that all you're havin'?" Craig asked critically, as Ami busied herself with the order. "This is your lunch break, ain't it?"

Dante shrugged. "I'm not very hungry."

Craig's eyes glinted with a knowing light as he surveyed his friend. "I bet I can guess the reason why."

Dante reddened. "Mind your own beeswax!"

"Said but not meant." Craig asserted breezily. "Mind if I join ya?"

"That's fine, as long as ya lay off hasslin' me about my not eating!"

"Or not sleepin'," Craig added, after another shrewd glance at the dark circles under his friend's eyes.

"That too."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Dante had finished his scone, all the while giving Craig an overview on his new assignment and how things were progressing in his love life. By an unspoken understanding, he didn't give out specifics; though he trusted his best friend with many confidences and vice versa, they were in a public place, and able to be overheard.

"I'd say she's ready to dump the suit for good!" Craig proclaimed, when Dante had finished. "It's a good thing too, bein' you're totally gaga over her!" While Dante glowered at him, he added, "I know you too well, Tager, so don't even _think_ about givin' me any of that 'I'm done with women' bullshit! If you weren't thinkin' that way about Miaka, then why bother bringin' her here to meet me? Why take a chance on her with that other guy in the picture? Why refuse ta sleep with her unless she says she's all yours? You wouldn't have done none of those things if she weren't the one, isn't that right?"

Dante averted his gaze to the cup he held, then gave an affirmative jerk of his head.

"Glad you're bein' honest with yourself this time!" Craig stated as his friend took a large swig of coffee. "You know as well as I do that when ya put feelings before your libido, it makes it official. Which also means you're gonna tell her the truth about yer _real_ job, right?"

"Yeah, to a point."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"I'll tell her I'm a detective that was reassigned, but not what or who it was in regards to."

Craig nodded. "It's got to do with that case you can't talk about."

"Yep."

"Answer me this, then- is she worth gettin' into trouble on her behalf?"

Dante's jaw tightened. "Yes."

"Would ya put up a fight for her if it comes down to that?"

"Damn straight!"

"Even if it means breakin' ties with the force?"

Amber eyes narrowed. "I'll do...whatever's necessary."

Looking satisfied, Craig picked up his mug. "So are ya gonna tell her you love her?" He asked over the rim, grinning as his friend's face flooded with red.

"Yeah." Dante admitted. "That's all I could think about all fuckin' night. How an' when an'..."

"Sheesh! It's a big fucking deal, but it's not that hard, is it?"

Dante shrugged. "Maybe to you, but I've never said it to any woman I've gone with."

Craig choked on a swallow of coffee. "S-Sandy?" He managed to get out, as he coughed and grabbed for a napkin.

"Never said it, and neither did she."

"An' you were thinkin' of _marryin'_ the woman? Oh man, that's really sa-"

"It ain't sad!" Dante interrupted hotly. "Sandy didn't let me make that mistake, an' I'm grateful. Not sayin' those words to her allowed me to meet the one woman in this world that I was meant to say those words to!"

"Miaka." Craig supplied, as his friend paused for a breath.

"Yeah."

"So go an' tell her as soon as your shift is up!"

"She'll still be at work." Dante grumbled. "Wish I 'd gone home instead of stopping at Kings, I coulda called her back last night!"

Craig smiled. "If ya really need an excuse to go see her before she gets home, why don't you an' me check out the Phoenix? I've been wantin' to try some Mongolian cuisine."

"Don't ya have to stick it out here?"

"Not tonight! Joe's back from vacation an' he and Abby are gonna be here from three until closing."

"Okay, let's do it!" Dante gave a decisive nod.

"Sixish? I'll pick ya up."

"Yeah, sounds good. But I'll drive-"

Craig reached across the table and grabbed his friend's hat and smacked Dante smartly upside the head with it.

"What the-"

"Why don'tcha try usin' _both_ yer heads for once?" Craig asked, as he tossed it back. "If Miaka's workin', won't she have a car there? And if I found some reason to hafta leave without ya, wouldn't that mean _she _could give you a ride home?"

Dante set the abused hat down on the table and smoothed a hand over his rumpled hair. "I guess she could." He admitted. "Good plan, bro."

"It's a damn good thing ya got me around to think of these things!"

The redhead grinned. "And for makin' a great cup 'o java!"

"Yer too kind, Tager, yer too kind. Need a refill?"

"Yeah, but better make it to go. My breaktime is just about up."

After bringing his most loyal customer a second depth charge in a styrofoam cup with a cover, Craig left to take a phone call. There was a generous amount of espresso in the drink, but Dante found he didn't need the stimulant it provided. Just the thought of the evening to come and having Miaka's petal soft warmth beneath him was enough to send his heart rate into overdrive…

The last five minutes of his break passed before he realized that he'd been staring off into space with a grin that could only be describe as wolfish.

Dante stood up, slapped on his hat, and picked up his drink.

"Yo, Tager! Check this out."

The owner of Brew was standing in front of the service counter. A blue-haired twin to either side of him, backs pressed against his hanging arms as they faced outward in poses that were perfectly symmentrical, their arms and fingers curved in a pose rather reminiscent of Oriental dragons. "The twins do impressions! Ask me what they are."

"Do I wanna know?"

"Ya do if ya want your free refill."

"All right! What are they?"

"Human bookends!"

Dante groaned as the two young women turned identical, laughing faces in his direction. "You're a sad man, Bennett! I'll see ya tonight!"

_To be continued…_

**Reviewers of this chapter will receive illusionary bling and a magical squeegee!**


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